Sparrow's Folly, the Fanfiction
by Daemon faerie queen
Summary: After an assassin is hired to kill him, Jack Sparrow thought things couldn't possibly get any worse. How wrong he was! Written by me and various other lovely people. Set after Curse of the Black Pearl. Rated T, but just ask your Mum, eh?
1. A Distinguished Entrance

**A/N:**

Welcome, ladies and gents, to the converted and revamped-RPG fanfic of Sparrow's Folly. This RPG is still running and has a lot ofcharacters still up for grabs. If anyone is interested in joining, simply ask questions in a review. Unlike most other fanfics, this one will not be quite so accurate in structure or continuity but I've spent a heck of a lot of time editing what I could, popping in my own linking sentences here and there, whilst keeping people's posts as close to the originals as possible. Bear with it, there's some corkingly good writing and adventure in here.

I have obtained the permission of the regular posters. Should any of you be a poster and you wish for your writings to be removed, please just ask. Each chapter title is the title of one or a combo of the larger plot threads, helping to break up the prose into easier-to-read chunks.

Thus far thanks go to: Surreal SaDiablo, Jade Starfall, Albannon Redbloom, Daemon Greythorn, Ellie, Ben Swithen, Johnny Grog, Lord Boris, all aforementioned people's various other characters, those who played Ragetti, Herbald, Tia Dalma, and Elizabeth before I babysat them and anyone else who participated or are yet to participate. I'll probably do some "End Credits" should the RPG properly come to a close, or perhaps begin anew on a different course.

Disclaimer: This story is written by _many _authors for fun and not for any kind of commercial use. It has been compiled and extensively edited by me – DaemonFaerieQueen. It is solely for entertainment and good humour. We do not own the characters from Disney's 'Pirates of the Caribbean' nor any places in fiction invented by them. We also do not own the characters from the Black Jewels Trilogy, from which some of the non-Pirates characters are loosely based.

**Chapter I: A Distinguished Entrance/Sorely In Need of Rum**

If Tortuga were any decent sort of town, one would say at this particular moment that it was peaceful and slowly stirring in the light of the morning sun. As a matter of fact, Tortuga in the mornings was uncommonly akin to the average town, since the revellers of the night were mostly abed; unconscious; hungover; all of these three at once, or no longer trod the realm of the living. Needless to say, only a few folks' eyes caught sight of the ship nearing harbour. It was a great vessel but its ancient structure and tattered black sails made it a wonder it was afloat at all. Still, it crossed the seas true enough, and at an almost frightening speed. Closer and closer it came, not slowing a fraction.

A crowd of early-rising fishermen made a hasty decision to abandon their little boat and bolted for the town in the wake of the careering _Black Pearl_. On her decks, various figures were rushing about, some waving their arms, others busy with ropes. They didn't seem to be readying mooring lines, nor considering dropping anchor. _The Black Pearl_ smashed past the gangplanks, splintering a good deal of her hull. She ground to a halt at the mainland and groaned into a sideways topple. Crewmembers leapt ashore and ran screaming for people to take cover.

"Fire in the hole!" screeched a parrot on one of the men's shoulders.

Not a moment too soon after the last person on the docks fled, there was an explosion. The port side of the ship was blasted out, showering the harbour in ash and burnt wood. When the worst was over, the people of the town wandered out from their homes and bars, gasping and bickering. Someone shouted something and they bustled as near to the docks as they dared.

Through the fading smoke, a figure rose from beneath what could only be described as a _smug_ gangplank for surviving such an incident.

Captain Jack Sparrow stepped, dripping, onto the soil of Tortuga and tipped a stream of saltwater from one of his boots. Then, seeing the crowd, he nodded a somewhat apologetic greeting. He picked a piece of seaweed from his hat and strode off in the awkward manner of one who is only wearing one shoe.

The mob dispersed. It didn't take a genius to know where Jack was going. He was obviously in need of a drink.

He swanned through the open doors of the tavern. Well, to say 'open' is to say that the inns of Tortuga had given up on their very invention. Doors were easily broken and terrible to escape through if the authorities ever dared raid the place. Despite the misfortunes of his ship, Jack's expression gave nothing away as to his thoughts or troubles. Nimbly sidestepping a couple of brawny smugglers in an arm-wrestling match that had ascended to getting out of their seats, Sparrow approached the bar and flashed a silver coin as though it were a badge.

"The usual if you please, mate."

Surreal strolled through the doors of the tavern, smiling. She was pleased that her last job had been a success. Though younger than most of the locals around these parts, her experience was often unmatched. With a little of the Orient about her, assassin was her game.

"Hey up, sugar, a shot of whisky please!" she called to the barman, as she made her way to the bar. After downing her shot, Surreal ordered a pint of ale. "Thanks, sugar!" She winked at the barman and made her way to an empty table.

Momentarily distracted from his distressed thoughts, Jack raised his eyebrow at the sight of the rather boisterous woman who had nonchalantly strode in, ordered more than the usual amount for a lady, and seated herself quite happily in the seediest waterhole in town. A fox-like glitter passed in his expression as he considered a way besides the joys of rum that would heighten his mood. Even so, perhaps it was fortunate that he'd noticed a few strumpets glaring at him from a corner. The thought of being struck across the face at this present time was enough to make him drop his lewd schemes.

Captain Sparrow meandered to a table by the west wall where his first mate happened to be slumbering in one of the chairs. Jack sat down, placed his tankard of rum on the tabletop and then watched his sleeping friend with interest. Sure the man was dead to the world, he dipped his hand into a pocket and retrieved a silver coin equal to the amount he'd spent on his beverage.

Jack grinned. "Well ta very much, Mr Gibbs."

As Surreal sat alone she surveyed her surroundings. After a while, the barman came over and left a message under her third pint. She glanced at the note.

It read: _Jack Sparrow. Go to Port Royal, speak to a William Turner_.

All the while thinking 'who's Jack Sparrow?' she headed out of the tavern's door and made for the island's blacksmith to get her samurai sword and knives sharpened.

Blissfully unaware of the promises of future danger, Jack took a long draught of his favoured liquor and let his eyes bounce around the tavern. He half-noticed the female outsider as she left in rather a hurry. So much for that possible exploit. Remembering his beloved Pearl's injury, his gaze sank into the bottom of his mug and he allowed a quiet sniff. He took another swig to finish it off, and then slammed it hard enough on the table to wake Gibbs briefly from his doze.

"My apologies."

With that, he tipped his hat down over his eyes, dodged an airborne bottle that smashed its contents to the right of his head, and fell into a dreamland of his own.

******************************************************************

Fresh from the smith, the dark-haired beauty of an assassin had boarded her elaborate junk, _Kaelas_.

"Oi! Get up, you scallywags! Get this ship ready to sail!' Surreal yelled at the top of her voice. The crew rushed about to obey her orders. Titan, the first mate rushed to the captain.

"What's our heading?"

"Port Royal. I'm to have a little chat with a Will Turner."

"Yes Captain. Move you worthless dogs! We need to get this ship to Port Royal!' Titan shouted at the crew.

_Kaelas_ set out onto the open ocean, Surreal at the helm with a dangerous sparkle in her eyes.

"Beware, Jack Sparrow. I'm on the hunt," she whispered to herself.

*******************************************************************

A small shadow dropped from the creaking mass of the wounded _Black Pearl_ and onto a nearby trawler. Having got its balance, for it was a thing that could do so, it scrambled along a mooring rope and leapt for the safety of the harbour.

Jack the monkey glared at the town that was unaware of his presence, happily busying about with their markets and lives. They didn't care about a poor, defenceless - well, all right _immortal_ creature. He was tired and singed, and the curse he had laid upon himself after stealing the gold, which he inevitably lost, meant he was forever hungry, ever thirsty...

...and he was angry.

That stupid human, the one who walked wrong, though granted all humans walked wrong. They had four feet so why didn't they use them all? But this human, the one he loathed so much...badly dressed, not a leader at all. That puny mongrel of a man was able to defeat this monkey's owner, his master. He who would have saved him from this curse and given him all the fruit he desired. He'd tried to get revenge; the Great Ape knows he had. A little trail of powder here, a few rum barrels there...one oil lamp. But that damn first mate had seen and warned everyone. Now he was stuck here in a town where he was likely to get stomped on or caught and sold or eaten...and _Jack Sparrow_ was still alive.

Yet, the one he loathed was also the only one left. He'd gotten so used to the pampering. The lack of attention and subservience was maddening. What was freedom? This Jack had forgotten. The monkey screeched as an unwary boot almost crushed his tail then he bounded off on the trail of his enemy, and his only hope of sanity.

Within the hour, he had scampered through a tavern entrance and, evading a few locals' boots, took refuge beneath one of the tables. His beady eyes scoured the room, trying to pick up the trail of the scent that had become mingled with pipe smoke, sweat and ale. At last he spotted him, the cause of all his pain and strife...dozing contentedly at the far side of the room. Monkey Jack trotted closer, diving under table after table, until at last he reached the legs of the west wall cluster. Curling his tail around the table's supports, he hoisted himself onto the top and crept towards his enemy. He reached out with his paw, lifted the brim of Captain Sparrow's hat...and froze.

Jack, the human Jack, had one eye open. He was staring blankly ahead, but made no sign of recognition. Slowly Monkey Jack let the hat slide back over the human's face. Before he could decide what to do next, there was an ominous click as of a trigger. He shivered and turned to see the gaping barrel of Sparrow's pistol.

The monkey made a squeak that faintly resembled: 'Uh oh'.

Jack raised his head and opened his other eye. He blinked himself fully awake before he realised the scene his instincts had begun. A wave of gut-wrenching horror struck him as he saw the fiend crouching in front of him. The ruddy monster that messed up his _Pearl_.

"AGHHHHHH!" he screamed, drawing the attention of the more sober occupants of the inn. Mr Gibbs jumped out of sleep and watched, bleary-eyed.

**BANG** went the pistol, whose shot soared over the head of the ducking monkey and struck the hat from a pirate swaying beside the bar. Thus, the attention of _all_ the occupants was drawn. In the ensuing silence, the monkey darted out of sight.

"Monkey! Stop him! It was a monkey!" Jack Sparrow shouted hysterically, waving his gun.

The hatless man at the bar cracked his knuckles. Jack lowered his pistol.

"Oh bugger."

*******************************************************************

A few streets away, Kestrel plunged another sheet into a steaming barrel and swirled it about with a dolly. She brushed an arm across her glistening forehead and swayed in the heat of the laundry room. As she lifted one of the cleaner items out on the stick and set about hanging it on a line, she heard the distant rumbles of a tavern brawl starting up. She grumbled and shook her head before stabbing at the other cloth she had submerged in the bubbling water.  
"Men," she hissed.

*********************************************************************

A mob of angry drunks on his trail, the pirate bolted across the streets of Tortuga with his arms flailing out in front of him. As he passed a couple of bystanders in a hectic blur, they were seen to nod to one another and mouth 'Jack Sparrow'. He didn't regret leaving poor Mr Gibbs behind, since no one would bother pursuing a man that didn't look guilty. His crew were in no danger as they were off salvaging supplies to repair the _Pearl_, else sleeping off the fear. Still...any man left behind and all that...

Jack yelled through the alleys before making a break for an open window that was at ground level. He bowled through; three burly intoxicates shouting and thundering behind.

She barely had time to think when the hollers of drunkards came closer and Kestrel found herself in the midst of the action. The young maid cried out as a man...well, it was _probably_ a man, if the decoration and stature weren't anything to go by... tumbled through the narrow window and flattened her. Regardless of the fact he'd called out a 'Sorry!' in advance, she wasn't best pleased.

"What the-," she started. "Get off me! Help!" She screamed, letting her voice travel up the stairs to the kitchens where she hoped were a lot of fat women with rolling pins.

Jack picked himself up and grabbed the brothel maid, slamming his hand over her screeching mouth. "Most humble apologies, dearie, but if you'd be so kind as to be quiet for a moment." He listened to the confused roars of his pursuers out on the streets, his free hand gripping her shoulder tightly with grubby fingers. A minute passed and he noticed her trembling. Half a second passed and he looked at her face. "I really am sorry, love," he said with buttered sympathy, allowing a small grin.

The look of 'charm' in the pirate's face only disturbed Kestrel more, causing her stomach to churn. She lifted her foot delicately before ramming it down onto the toes of his right boot. No sooner had he yelled and released her, Kestrel screamed louder than before. She was well aware of one of Woman's many powers. Her cry brought the sound of sozzled bellows back towards the brothel.

Hopping on one foot, Jack cursed at his nearing and recent enemies. He rushed forwards and shoved the steaming washing barrel underneath the open window. That done, he ran for the stairs. He paused. He strode back to the glaring and bewildered maid and pointed a shaking finger at her.

"That-." Giving up on his rage almost immediately after, he let his arm drop. "That was just uncalled for." He cringed as a drunk fell through the small window, shattering its glass, and landed in the scalding water. The others roared and began clambering in themselves. Jack cleared the stairs before the girl knew he had left her side.

Hot and flustered, her mousey hair poking out in tufts from her bonnet, Kestrel snatched a broom and readied to defend herself in case the intruders tried anything. The unfortunate in the hot water managed to tip the barrel over and climb out, red-faced. The others crashed to the floor and grunted like swine.

Kestrel stood back as they got up, staggering. She brandished the broom towards them with one hand and pointed to the stairs with the other.

"He went that way."

Having bounded up the stairs, Jack raced through the kitchens of the White Rose Brothel.

"Ow!" ***Clang*** "I implore you madams - ow! - Stop hitting me - ow! - stop! Not good! Pain!"

Now with angered kitchen staff at his heels, the hapless pirate skidded into a corridor, pans soaring over his head when he was lucky.

"Leave me alone, you bloody savages!" he yelped, darting into the next stairwell that would hopefully lead up to the ground floor and the open air of Tortuga.

Kestrel grumbled as she picked up the spilled barrel, the remaining water now tepid and filthy since the sodden drunkard had climbed out of it. The sight of the water made her feel dirty. The thought of the man in it made her feel nauseous. She swept up the fragments of glass from the broken window, flashes of the incident reeling through her mind. By Tortugan standards, she got off light, happy and fortunate. But by her standards she felt tainted. The sullying hands of a man grabbing her, holding her against her will... she needed to bathe as quickly as possible. It was too horrible. Once the mess was cleared and the half-washed sheet hung on the line, Kestrel resolved to head upstairs to tell of the needed repairs and for a soak in one of the White Rose's tubs.

Jack trudged back into the inn, receiving jeers from a couple of pirates but also a round of applause from the most part. It seemed the drunks he had left behind had given up or become distracted - probably by those vicious women with the frying pans. He laid the coin he'd taken from Gibbs on the bar-top and demanded another rum. As he did, he looked over to where his first mate had been and saw an empty seat.

_Must've gone to check on the ship_, he mused.

Taking his not-so-well-earned drink from the barman with a quick 'Ta', Jack meandered back to his seat and made a point of hiding himself behind a large potted fern. His dark eyes watched the tavern floor shrewdly.

No monkey was going to make a monkey out of Captain Jack Sparrow...


	2. Blasted Monkey

**A/N:**This being the second chapter of the gradual revamping of the Sparrow's Folly fic, intended to be easier to digest in the readerly manner.

**Chapter II: Blasted Monkey…**

Jack the monkey bolted for the safety of the harbour. At the last moment, his desperation for further revenge or companionship had failed him in the view of a pirate's pistol. The monkey may have been cursed, undead and immortal - the only UPIM (Undead Pirate Immortal Mary-Sue) permitted in the story - but it still felt pain and wasn't particularly confident in the rules of the curse at any rate. Should a monkey think this way? He didn't know. This curse seemed to give him a human conscience, however twisted it may be.

The mortal fear still within him was driven by the look on the man with the red bandanna's face. At first impression, when his master had marooned that first captain of the _Black Pearl_, he was not in the least afraid of the man. But there was Sparrow's ceaseless ability to return from the 'dead' and the eerily unhinged tantrums he could have in the wake of a small monkey...

Little Jack thought it best to lay low for a while. He bounded up the mooring lines that had now been attached to the damaged _Black Pearl_, leapt into the hole in her side and set off in search of the abandoned, waterlogged galley.

******************************************************************

_Well_, eleven-year-old Ellie thought to herself ruefully, looking down at her small, puny knees as she sat hunched and hidden in the cupboard of the small, flooded galley. _I've certainly picked myself a worthwhile ship..._

The ship, as she knew now, was damaged, and from what she had been able to tell it was docked somewhere, though even she knew not of its whereabouts. She knew of the incident in which it had been damaged--she was there, after all--but now she was left to wonder where and when it would take her away from the port in which it was settled. Sneaking onto the _Black Pearl_ at its last docking had not been difficult; she had simply stowed away in a supply crate, and then had found herself in the damp, dark cargo hold. It had been staying hidden that was the real issue; after the explosion she had been terrified but stayed hidden all the same, hunched over in the very cupboard she was now in.  
She was too afraid to move, despite the water level that had taken hold of the galley; she knew that if she left her hiding place, those that were hustling and bustling about the ship might see her. She wondered if it mattered, if she could run off of it and escape any that might chase her...

There was no reason in particular that she had chosen this ship for illegal passage. She was a stowaway of a most peculiar breed, being not only a child but also a person who cared not where she was taken. She searched for happiness, and the only way she thought she could find that would be to sail to a place that would bring her such sentiments. She was too young to barter passage anywhere; stowing away had to do. It wasn't as though she had anyone that would have missed her.

_This is horrible_, she decided after a moment, shuddering and closing her eerily light blue-grey eyes. Movement on the ship seemed to have quieted; presumably the repairs would wait for another day. A moment later her mind had been made up; she frowned and kicked her small legs out, forcing the door to the cupboard open and scrambling out on her hands and knees. Instantly, the front of her ratty old brown dress was soaked with the water swishing and swashing its way around the floor. She scowled, standing up and frowning at her dingy dress. Oh well...it wasn't as though it hadn't been ruined to begin with...

She cut a strange sight, and she knew it. An oddly gaunt girl with raggedy black hair, eyes that had the tendency to make people double-take when they saw them, and only a dirty old dress and no shoes to adorn her. Fancy indeed. It seemed, however, that no sooner had she forced herself out of that small cupboard then she was standing stock-still, her light eyes wide as her head jerked this way and that. She thought...no, she could have sworn that she heard something making its way to the galley...like a pitter-patter of small feet coming from somewhere close by...but what was it?

Having heard a disturbance in his current place of rest, Jack the monkey had crept out of his hidey-hole amongst the bottle-racks and pattered into the shallows of the galley. Outside the sun was setting. Little shafts of orange light leaked into the room, which would soon be moonlight. The monkey kept out of the light but was not invisible to the intruder of his privacy. He saw a young girl in a ragged, damp dress. He was soggy and irritable and lonely...and annoyed.

Jack screeched loudly and bared his fangs.

Now, Ellie had never considered herself to be the sort of person--little girl or not--that would become frightened very easily. In order to stow away on ships as she did, fear was something that, after a time, she had learned to fight away. However...

She had never looked up only to see a small monkey shrieking at her, and so she had no experience with said event. The end result of making this discovery and staring at the monkey for what had to be actual seconds was that, only a moment later, an ear-splitting shriek escaped the confines of her lips and she stumbled back, only to slip and fall flat on her back, quickly immersing herself in the water that flowed steadily there.  
A moment or so later, she broke through the shallow surface of the water once more and was on her feet, still shrieking and running for the door, shouting at the top of her lungs and uncaring of anyone that might hear, "Monkey! _Insane monkey_!"

Jack put his little paws over his ringing ears. Human children certainly could make a noise. He considered wandering back into the shadows of the ship as she darted for safety, but his overwhelming loneliness got the better of him. Without shrieking this time, he bounded after the fleeing child, ran between her feet and sat a fair distance ahead of her. He stood up on his hind legs and spread his paws out in a human-like gesture of greeting.

At first, Ellie had assumed that she could outrun the little beast, but when it darted right between her legs, causing her to shriek and stop in her tracks, she wasn't sure _what _to assume anymore.

"Er...oh dear..." she mumbled, taking a step back when the small animal--who was also dressed in tiny clothing, strangely enough--stopped in front of her, spreading his tiny paws wide as he stood high and proud on his hind feet. "Ah...er...I don't want no trouble, Mr. Monkey..." her voice was naturally meek, and rather hoarse, so she had to force herself to speak a little louder than usual. A moment later, she was scoffing at herself, wondering why she thought the animal could understand her. Monkeys couldn't understand human words...could they?

Slowly, tentatively, her hand went down and disappeared into the small pocket-patch that she had hastily sewed onto the side of her ratty old dress, and out came a treat--her last piece of food that she had managed to filch from the galley before it had begun to flood; a rather stale, but still good piece of bread. (At least, she had assumed it was bread; it was almost black around the edges, but to be fair she had eaten much worse before). Thinking that perhaps she could bait the monkey into taking the food, and therefore provide a distraction so she could run away from it as it ate, she edged forward in by inch, her hand held away from herself as she dangled the bread a mere foot or so over the floor.

Jack crept forward, sniffing at the food presented to him. He wondered if, like all the other sustenance he'd had since his curse, it would be utterly tasteless and unfulfilling. Deciding to take the chance, he snatched the bread from the little girl's hand but then sat staring at her with heart-melting eyes. He tilted his head adorably, made a few mild chatters and held out his free paw.

"Oh!" Ellie said in surprise, involuntarily taking a small step back when the monkey took the food right from her hand. Her chance to escape, it seemed, wasn't going to come anytime soon; instead of immersing himself in the food she had given to him, the monkey simply sat back and stared up at her, his once beady and dark eyes wide...

"Oh..." she said again, at a loss as to what else she was supposed to say or do when it held out one furry little paw to her. For a small moment, her eyes lingered on those tiny fingers. She wondered if the monkey had claws...? However, right now it didn't seem to be as...threatening, as it had been before. At any moment, she expected it to begin shrieking at her; maybe batting at her with his paw...but he didn't. Instead, the small tittering sounds coming from its mouth were--dare she think it?--rather adorable. Perhaps, she thought dubiously, this monkey wasn't as fearsome as she had first thought it to be? Well, there was no other way to find out...

"Hello..." she said carefully, her nervousness more than evident as she slowly reached down, the tips of her fingers just barely touching the padded palm of the small animal's friend. "Er...my name's Ellie..." She felt a little foolish, telling the monkey her name as though it could understand her, but the animal didn't seem as though it would do her any harm...it was rather cute, actually, in it's own way...

Gently, the little monkey planted a monkeyish kiss on her fingertips and rather clumsily deposited the piece of bread back into Ellie's palm. Before she could respond, Jack scurried up her arm and perched on her shoulder. He gripped rather tightly out of worry that she would shake him off. He brushed the one paw he dared to not hold with through her hair in an affectionate way. Perhaps treating the human child in more of a pleasant manner than he was used to would release him from his loneliness. After all, the only grudges he had left were against that no-good Sparrow and crew.

"Thank you..." Ellie mumbled in amazement when the small animal kissed her fingers, and then deposited the piece of stale bread back into her hand. Instinctively, her hand went right back into her pocket and put the food back where it had come from; she was young, but she was not stupid. She never knew when more food would be coming to her, and she was normally careful to ration it.

For a small moment, she had assumed that that would be it; the monkey had given her back her food, and then that was it; he would leave, and she would be free to continue as she was. However...she began to think otherwise of this when it suddenly clambered up her arm and stopped on her shoulder. Its grip was firm, and she just knew that she wouldn't be able to shake it off, even if she wanted to.  
But _did _she want to?

She wasn't sure anymore. The animal that had seemed like a terrifying beast before now seemed like nothing but an adorable and fuzzy little creature that was now brushing one of its hands through her scraggly dark hair.

"You're not so bad, are you?" Her small voice rang out with a surprising amount of cheer. There it was, again; that child-like naivety that betrayed her true age, coming forth again at a time when she was faced with utter cuteness and adoration. An eleven-year-old could only resist a cute little monkey for so long, after all. "You're kinda cute, actually..." Hesitantly, she reached up and gave the creature a small pat on the head, her expression brightening with every moment that passed. "Do you live down here?" She continued as though talking to a human being. "It's really dark, and watery...I was gonna go up on top a' the deck and see where I was...you wanna come, Mr. Monkey?"

Jack paused in stroking Ellie's hair to bob his head repeatedly in answer to her proposal. He curled his tail around the top of her right arm and looked ahead, the buttons on his tiny shirt jingling as he moved. He had become so distracted that he'd forgotten that they were about to step out into a flood of moonlight...

Little Ellie almost giggled when the monkey bobbed his head up and down, indicating that he would indeed like to go with her above-deck. It was funny...despite her thinking from before, she was beginning to wonder if this small animal really _could _understand what she was saying. How odd...

"All right. Let's see where we are, eh?" she asked cheerily, smiling up at the monkey as they made their way up the slightly creaky stairs that would lead them to the darkened deck above. "Wow, it got dark outside really fast..."

She kept herself on the alert nevertheless, well aware that there could still be other people amongst the ship even though it was docked and damaged in such a way. Perhaps it was this fear that kept her attention elsewhere as she climbed the final steps and found herself on the moon-lit deck; she kept her eyes straight ahead as she crept along, not bothering to look at the small creature still perched upon her shoulder.  
"You're ticklin' me," she said absentmindedly, brushing away the monkey's long tail, which had been brushing against her shoulder. She paused when she did, when she noticed the absence of fur that her hand had touched, and when she looked to the side...she saw something strange.  
Where there had once been a long, fuzzy tail...there now seemed to be a string of well-placed white beads...but no, she realized soon enough, those weren't beads...they were like a long piece of spine, almost, made of bone and curling upward towards her new monkey friend...

An instant later, her eyes happened upon the skull of the monkey, and from there the bones that were so easily visible to her; patches of fur here and there, long bared teeth with no skin to cover them, decaying flesh...

Ellie did what any eleven-year-old would have, when put in a situation when they had a skeleton monkey perched on their shoulder.

She screamed.

The monkey screamed back, placing his skeletal paws over his ears. He lost balance and tumbled off her shoulder. No sooner had he hit the deck, he scrabbled halfway up the mast of the _Pearl_ and peered through one of the torn sails at the terrified child. Jack didn't much like the sight of himself like this either. He'd seen his reflection enough times in puddles on ships. Sometimes it was a blessing, particularly if some foul sea-dog wanted to see what monkey tasted like. No bugger would touch a cursed creature. Even so, to be reminded of his hideousness whilst he was trying to make friends was not what he had planned.

From his position up high, he watched sorrowfully as the little figure below fled into the streets, not knowing if they would ever meet again.


	3. Interrogation

**Chapter III: Interrogation**

A day and a half had passed. After arriving in Port Royal, Surreal asked passers-by where the best blacksmith was, to which came the reply 'Browns'. Surreal arrived at her destination with all her weapons in tow.

"Excuse me, sugar, could you sharpen these for me? Expense is no problem," she queried to the strapping young man in front of her. Surreal pointed to the large bag on the floor at her feet, which was filled with two samurai swords and a cluster of knives.

Will Turner, for it was he whom she was addressing, looked up from behind a lathe. He withdrew the rapier he was sharpening and was about to put it aside when he saw the contents of the bag the customer had dropped. He tried not to look too surprised, but being an honest young man, it was hard to hide his suspicion. Good ladies didn't usually wander about with weapons. Especially those of the foreign sort.

His hand tightened on the not-sharp-enough sword, then he spoke slowly:

"I am not concerned with the price of lending my skills to you. With respect, it is how the weapons I improve are put to use after I have dealt with them."

Surreal smiled at the young gentleman in front of her even as he refused to sharpen her swords. "Sugar, what I do with them is for me to know and for you to pray that you never find out," Surreal sneered back. Her attention remained on the whelp as she started to move around the shop. She took out her favourite sword and approached him. "Let's see how brave you are! Though in my opinion it's stupidity."

In a second she was standing at his side, her sword in a perfect position for a kill.

"Now sugar, let's get this straight. I'm an assassin. Getting on the wrong side of me is a very bad idea! Just so there's no confusion you'll be dead in a heartbeat if you try to escape. Now how about you reconsider that answer?" Surreal said in a deadly whisper.

Brave young Mr Turner was, which also made him very stupid just as his attacker knew. Particularly at the thought of a woman like this being within a few miles of the girl he swore to protect. Will stepped back and edged his sword higher.

"Perhaps you will kill me. But can you be sure that I won't cry out and wake up old Mr Brown over there?" He nodded to a slumbering drunk near to the back door. "And if you kill him? What then? He might shout too, near the open streets. Open streets teeming with royal guard. I'm not a great judge but I'd doubt even the most professional murderer could take on an army alone. Now, by your voice and manner I would not place you as a pirate. Your business may be above me. You could be under the service of kings for all I know. Though I would prefer not to aid you in your cause, it may be that it is my duty. If you take back your threats, I will do the job. If I hear of your harming anyone of honourable nature, I will take vengeance. Is that understood?"

He watched the dangerous lady fixedly.

"Well you've got balls, but sugar, that was no threat. That was me pointing out the obvious. So why don't we get to work, as I do have a task to get on with." Surreal turned her back and walked over to her bag as she was saying this. She removed both her samurai swords and turned back to the young man. "So let's start with these. Also, what's your name, kid? I'm Surreal, and trust me it's a name you won't forget!" she said in a very sly voice whilst winking at him. She went over to the furnace and started to heat her much-loved sword. All the time Surreal was thinking about her mission and where she would find Will Turner.

She was very tempted to point out to the young man that she could have killed him before he had a chance - not with her sword, but with her favourite stiletto (her meanest blade) hidden up the sleeve of her dress. _This is why I'm a damn good assassin. I never use the most obvious weapon. _Surreal turned again to the young man and raised her eyebrow letting the next move be his.

Will relaxed a little but only on the inside. He placed the sword he'd been working on aside with great care then he reached out to take the first weapon she required work upon. Though he was cautious of her, he foolishly had not learned from past times where he had given his name and made himself leverage. At least, he didn't think his name would matter any longer, not since Barbossa was destroyed and his love, Elizabeth, rescued.

"My name is Turner. William Turner. A friend of the Governor in these parts, but I won't lie that I am particularly important in anything but affection and loyalty."

_William Turner, is it?_ Surreal thought smugly to herself. _Well this is interesting. The man I need to speak to about Jack Sparrow is only feet from me,_ _and if he won't give me answers then_ _there's the Governor_. _What a simple-minded blacksmith! He's just saved me hours of work by one little line_.

"My dear William, I'm sorry to have to do this but I need information about someone to whom you are acquainted. A Mr Jack Sparrow." Surreal stood up straight with no weapon in her hand but with her hidden stiletto prepared just in case Will decided to fight her. "Now before you get all moody, all I want is information. If you tell me all you know then I'll leave here and you'll never hear from me again. How about it, sugar? What do you know about Jack Sparrow?"

Surreal stood watching Will while she waited for her answer, though she had already thought of a means to get the information she required, one way or another.

Tenser than before, Will stood with the lathe still between him and Surreal.

So, she wanted to know about Jack. _Was he the one she was after?_ he wondered. _Or is he on her side?_ His for-the-most-part 'friend' was as good at making enemies as he was at charming the purses from people. Will was not a betrayer; but he knew Jack could handle himself if it was necessary. How good was this woman with tricks?

"You want to know about _Captain_ Jack Sparrow?" Will asked, tonelessly. "The ruthless, immortal pirate? A man strong and quick-witted enough to defeat an army of cursed sailors? One who laughs in the face of death? What is he to you?"

Turner watched her coldly. He was impressed with himself for managing to tell so much rubbish. Of course Jack wasn't immortal or strong. The guy was a self-centred rogue, and most probably a coward. But she didn't know that. She might not even know about the adventures they'd had not three months ago.

"Whoever sent you must think I am acquainted with this criminal. Whom do you work for?"

"To be honest with you, sugar, I don't know." Surreal placed the note she had received on the side of the lathe. "That's what I know. I needed to find you, to find out about your _Captain_ Jack Sparrow.

_My dear, you're such an amateur. If you're going to lie like that you should at least make it more believable_, Surreal thought to herself.

"Will, I've got nothing against you at the moment, but all I want is a little bit of information. What's his ship called? Where is he likely to be? How many in his crew? What does he look like? What is he like other than immortal and brave? Also if he's as good as you make him out to be then wouldn't it be better to send me to bother him instead of you and this port?" she asked sweetly.

She made her way up to Will and gave him a peck on the cheek, and as she walked past him she said, "While you're thinking about whether or not you should be truthful when answering my questions, I'm going to have a word with this governor of yours and see what he has to say…"

Smiling smugly Surreal started to walk to the front door counting as she went. _1.........2........3.........4..........5_

Something broke inside Will. The very thought of Surreal going near the governor, near Elizabeth...

"Wait," he said, with the last strength he had.

It wasn't as though the information he planned on giving wasn't something this woman could get off any local of the Port anyway. He might as well tell her and know what information she had.

"The governor knows very little of individual pirates. Most people who know of Jack will know his ship the more. A ship with black sails. I don't know where he is. If you'd asked me a month ago I would say he was as far from the Caribbean as possible whilst Commodore Norrington hunted for him. Now Norrington has resigned, there's no telling where Sparrow might be." Will let himself laugh for a moment. "As for 'brave', I never said Jack Sparrow was _brave_. Brave men make a lot more mistakes and you know where you stand with them. If he weren't so strange, I'd call him sensible. This is all I know. I hope you are satisfied and will let me get on with my work."

Surreal sniggered to herself as she knew that Will would stop her. _Men are so predictable. _She waited until the blacksmith had done the jobs she required.

"Thank you, sugar, I've got more than I needed. Your Governor is safe, and I now know where to look for Jack. Mr Turner, you've done me a great service and it's one I won't forget!"

Surreal collected her swords and knives now that they were sharp and ready to go. She gave Will a kiss on the cheek and walked out of the blacksmiths. "Bye, sugar!" she shouted as she exited the shop and made her way to the _Kaelas_. Even though she had left, Surreal knew that she would be back one day just to annoy the young man. She felt a lot of respect for him as he had stupidly stood up to her, which was one thing she admired.

Will cringed as the woman had laid another kiss on him, something he would have avoided if he'd had the chance. After she had left, he snatched up a hammer and threw it at one of the walls. What had given it away? She must have seen Jack's ship before. Now the question was...what was he to do now? Would he warn his current friend, and if so how could he do it without informing the governor he wanted a ship to go aid a pirate? Plus, he didn't have a clue where Jack was, bar the idea of searching his usual haunts.

The young blacksmith sat with his head in his hands as he tried to figure out what to do.

***************************************************************

Surreal was glad to be aboard her ship once again. She headed straight for her cabin in order to change into more suitable attire.

_I'm so glad to get out of this bloody dress and get back into my normal clothes._

She strode briskly out to the helm once she was ready.

"Let's get this ship moving! Set heading for Tortuga."

_I'm going to skin alive the idiot who hired me. My target is back at Tortuga, we passed his ship on the way out!_ Surreal snarled to herself.

"Captain, does this mean we get to do some pirating when we get back there?' Titan asked cautiously.

"Of course. After this job let's go pirating somewhere we've never been as I think I need a break. Let's hope this is a quick and easy job," Surreal replied.

As the_ Kaelas_ set sail back to Tortuga, Surreal climbed the rigging so she could be by herself. She sat in silence and started thinking about what was to come.

_Bloody hell do I need a break, I'm so tired_. _Stop it, woman… you have to keep your game face 'til this is all over. It probably will be a big job after all due to the large pay out._

She watched her crew scurry around below. She thought about her past, all of her previous jobs. One stuck in her mind; the killing of an innocent. She'd never forgive the guy who hired her, though to be fair she did get her revenge. She had skinned him alive, but that would never erase the image of the woman and child that got involved at the crucial moment. She would never forgive herself for not stopping sooner. The face of the woman haunted her dreams and she knew it would stay with her forever…

One of her first jobs had sent her to a house, but there had been no mention of a family. As she struck the final blow on the father (who was her intended target), his daughter got in the way and her sword went through the both of them. The mother's face was horrified. That was a fight Surreal never wanted to remember… she had to fight for her life, as the woman had nothing else to live for. Ever since that day Surreal liked to get to know her targets. She spent time watching her prey so she would never make the same mistake again.

Surreal climbed back down the rigging.

"Titan, come spar with me," she shouted as she descended.

By the time she'd made it to the deck Titan was ready. The battle that followed was a graceful and dangerous dance.

*********************************************************************

When the sparring match was over, nothing could have prepared the crew of the _Kaelas _for what happened next.

"My word, madam, I've rarely if ever seen such a graceful and dangerous dance of a sword-play array as you and your partner have laid on today," exclaimed a small, grisly man who leapt forth from the shadows of the ship's mast. "Do excuse my alarming presence on your ship. The ceilidhs, was it? A-harr, I," said he with a bow so curt he banged his head on the deck with a loud crack, "am Gibreel P. Blake, entertainer, puppeteer, bearded man, and your humble servant, you very patently mystic lady.

"The gentleman, I have noted is Titan, if that is his real name, but I am at a loss to your own moniker, madame. But wait! I've recalled a fight yet more delicate, yet more dangerous. Let me sing of it to you on this, my accursed accordion."

And so sprung up a boisterous oom-pah beat.

No sooner had the man jumped out, Surreal, being who she was, went into a fighting stance. After listening to him she relaxed her composure but remained ready should the need arise to fight. Surreal had to stop herself from laughing when he hit his head on the deck; this had lightened her mood. However, once the gentleman started to play his accordion, Surreal would have gladly slit his throat. As far as she was concerned an accordion was _not music_! She decided then she'd had enough.

"What the hell are you doing on my ship?" She had to shout to get his attention.

Titan and the crew stood back in fear as they saw the murderous look on her face. They knew well that the only kind of music their captain liked was the guitar. Titan felt sorry for the man, as he'd upset Surreal in more ways than one. Titan knew Surreal best, as he was raised in the same clan. He also knew from experience that anyone who stowed away on her ship was in for a rough time.

"Serenading you, with songs of the sea, milady. Or would you rather a lover's ballad? No, by the expression on your face, a fanfare to your glory would be perhaps a little more suited to this occasion in particular."

Gibreel stopped for a moment, to ponder how to rhyme 'fair lady of danger' with 'big, red face full of anger', then opened again, with elaborate ooms, pahs and suchlike, before grinding very slowly to a halt. "I ask no lodging, for I carry my own hammock, no fee but stories of your success, and no food, for I'll steal it when you ain't looking, madame. A-ho-ho. And I wouldn't recommend slicing your shiny sword through this accordion, as it's cursed to impair the sword, and grow itself back bigger and stronger and much, much louder. No, I recognise a murderous thought when I see one."

"All right, sugar, you can stay on my ship until we get to Tortuga, which should be tomorrow. Then you're off my ship, got it? To put you straight, my murderous intent is for you not the accordion, but if you play that bloody thing one more time you be thrown overboard, all right?" Having gotten her point across, Surreal made her way to her cabin. "Titan, he's your responsibility. Keep him out of my way. There's no room for compromise there. Got it?"

"Yes Surreal, I've got it," Titan replied. "Oi, Gibreel, follow me. I'll show you where you can bunk. Just a bit of advice, stay away from Surreal if you want to keep your bellows." Titan headed to the crews quarters, not waiting for Gibreel.

Blake followed, playing his accordion as softly as he knew how. _Tortuga, indeed?_ Well, he noted, this uncontrollably aggressive woman was one sure to get into all manner of japes and antics, and he intended to be there to note them for song, story and puppet-show, even if it meant trailing her round, providing incidental music for each successive kill. For the while, he was more than content to enjoy what hospitality they afforded, and give whatever they would gladly receive. After all, who can live without music?


	4. Better Swords For All

**Chapter IV: Better Swords For All/Immortal No More**

Not even such rotund waves as these could shake senor Grigori Hulliver as he rose phlegmatic from his cabin's chaise-longue. He laid his journal to rest, and, to keep the pages flat, placed upon it a heavy cask of low-alcohol grog. "Commendable," he murmured.

"A lively entry, captain?' enquired Rufus Arrr, first mate to the ship.

"How many times," ejaculated Hulliver, "never, never refer to me as captain. Not even here on open sea."

"And who's around to hear us, may I ask," retorted the hirsute seaman.

"Keep caution ever with you, Arrr, I've read of many dangerous and unlikely characters sailing these waters, some of them with abilities and motivations beyond our understandings. Who knows what ears may be pressed at my cabin door."

Arrr looked disconcerted.

"Well, man, since I've put the thought into both our minds, check the door."

Arrr unbolted and opened the wooden door to Hulliver's cavern, and looked relieved at the absence of any visible listening ear in the vicinity.  
Continued Grigori, "Your company has been most assuring, Rufus, but I fear it is high time you join Mr Silver in keeping the ship steady. It is, as has so often been remarked, a skeleton crew which doesn't do well to be in any way depleted."

"Aye, señor."

"That's the spirit, Arrr. And ask navigator Silver which is closer out of Tortuga and Port Royal. We have business in each, and I'm keen to keep these matters orderly."

"As you wish, señor."

"Wonderful. If you need me, I'll be in the privy, although, as its French etymology might suggest, I am not to be disturbed there, under any circumstances but imminent doom."

And, as the sails unfurled to be excited by the wind, away the señor strolled, portentously rubbing his stomach.

Time passed, and Grigori Hulliver burst forth from the ship's privy.

"Vanity," he said, rapping his fingers on his ship's journal. "How are we headed?"

"Tortuga should be creeping over that horizon within the five-minute, sir."

"Wonderful. Perhaps there I can cadge me some rest."

"Not been sleeping right, sir," enquired navigator Silver.

"It's thrown me off my writings. They're more important than they might seem, and I'm determined to follow my latest entry with a few leaves of day-to-day torpor, rather than leave it exposed and significant to any prying eyes."

At this, Mr Silver looked a touch concerned.

"Sir, I've seen the latest entry, and it's nothing special --"

"You?" erupted Hulliver. "You have looked inside the log?"

"Only so as I could -"

But it was too late, for Hulliver had cuff'd him over the head with his scabbard.

"Mr Arrr, I shall man the ship for a moment, while you give Mr Silver twenty and five lashes. Next time it shall be twenty five hundred. And I'm turning the ship around. We sail to Port Royal. You're a fine crew, but you'll not be enjoying the pleasures of Tortuga tonight. Incidentally, Mr Arrr, what soup will we be having tonight?"

"Whelk soup, señor"

"Sea whelk?"

"No, señor, just whelk."

"Whelk indeed. Be swift in those lashes, men - I must return to my attempts to chronicle. These weary days have fair enough robbed me of my fervour."

****************************************************************

"Come, what's up Titan?" Surreal asked while she was sat behind her desk with a list in front of her.

"Surreal, you need rest and you know it. I know what you're like. This job will drain you of what energy you have and you'll end up being sloppy in a fight, which as you well know means an injury or death. You shouldn't have taken this job and you know it," Titan replied cautiously with a hint of worry in his voice for Surreal.

"Titan as I've already said I'll be fine. After this job I'm going to have a rest, which you'll make sure of I bet. I know you're worried but trust me, if something goes wrong then the ship is yours," Surreal tiredly replied. She knew that her last comment would upset Titan.

"Damn it sis, I'm coming with you. If you're being like this then you must be exhausted. You've been hired out for the past twelve months without a break. I'm not taking no for an answer. I'm coming with you when we get to Tortuga. Anyway, how do you know that your target is _in_ Tortuga?" Titan started to pace to work off some of his aggravation.

"Will Turner told me something very interesting. He said that Jack Sparrow's ship had black sails. Do you remember that ship that we saw that was wrecked? Yes? Well, that is his ship. Don't ask me how I know, I just have a feeling that I'm right." Surreal smiled her wicked smile at Titan.

"We'll be at Tortuga soon enough, so you best get changed. I'll come and shout you when we're there, all right? Now get some sleep!" Titan kissed Surreal on her forehead and left her cabin.

Surreal got up and locked the cabin door then she made her way to a secret compartment, which led to her bed (you can never be too careful). In minutes she was in a dreamless sleep.

*************************************************************

"Ahoy. Ahoy there," cried a parched captain Hulliver, entering the blacksmiths of the port at which he had chosen to dock. "Is anyone home to do me a deal? "'Tis a small matter. Is there anybody home to smith me some blacks? Swords, that would be. Functional ones."

It was a cool day, so Hulliver glanced through the sun-lit patches of the blacksmith. Still not seeing anyone in the main body of the smithery, Hulliver continued his expository musing.

"I heard a tale once of King Richard and Saladin of the Arabic hordes. They were admirably civil, in fact, and compared the qualities of their swords. A log was presented, and the Lionheart sliced clean through it with his broadsword. Saladin threw a silk 'kerchief in the air, and with his curved blade, sliced it in two before it reached the ground. Much as I delight in tales of the latter weapon, what we need is functionality, strong and sharp enough to sever a lung from a torso. Not being, shall we say, pirates of the Arabian (not that my crew are pirates, of course), we have little need to slice up the silk of our garb, much less the canvas of our sails, which, alas, lack the characteristic beauty of silk in its orient form.

"So, to get back to the main point, I'd like to purchase some swords. Perhaps I should be looking for a sword-shop, not a blacksmith, but you were the first establishment I came to, and I like to think I have a finer chance of finding what I need here than in the bakery down the row. And, while we're at it, have you a privy on the premises?"

William Turner hurried in from the back door, slugging a large backpack that sounded very heavy and full of dangerous objects. He stopped in his tracks at the sight of the customer.

"My regrets, friend, but we are closing early today. A little bit of an emergency has arisen if you will pardon me. But in the event I can help you quickly or in the near future, how may I be of service?"

He nodded a hurried and respectful bow.

"No trouble at all, young man," replied señor Hulliver, clearly relieved by the company, "Early closing? No problem for me. I shall wait for your return."

Hulliver shook the virile blacksmith warmly by the hand, and noted his disturbed expression.

"Oh," he continued, "worry not, I'm not angry. I brought food with me - fresh fruit, or so it was when I packed it. I may not be an expert in many things, but I like to think I'm blessed with a reasonable quantity for patience, and what people have told me is a commendable boredom threshold. I'd like a cutlass or three - strong ones if possible. If this is the place to find such weaponry, might I coax you to service me with such instruments? The name's Hulliver, by the way. Grigori Hulliver. Señor."

Bewildered by the man's unusual manner of circumlocutory speech, Will felt himself obliged to postpone his rush. After all...it had taken him the whole night to prepare. What if he was too late and Jack already slain?

"Will Turner," he replied. "I'm honoured to meet you. Although I am afraid, due to the cutlass's usual association with pirates, I mostly specialise in military rapiers. At least, until I have sufficient time, that is all I have to offer. Either those or horseshoes."

"Pirates!" laughed Hulliver. "Pirates! No, no. Cutlasses are fine things, taking the finer part of the European and Oriental sword designs and converging them. I must admit, however, a military rapier makes a more pleasing sound when whirled through the air, so such things will do very nicely. Make them well, young fellow me lad, strong enough to fight, true enough to slice, and good enough to be proud of. Make no mistake of it, these are swords my crew and I shall use, and use wisely.

"Not, you understand," he continued, "in any villainous act. No, indeed. Pirates? Well, perhaps, but if I was a cruel or harsh man who believed in stealing what he wanted, you would most likely already be dead, and I would want a lump of wood with which to clobber the righteous, not a well-crafted blade. So, four rapiers. The same number of horse-shoes, just in case, you understand." He circled the young blacksmith, sizing him up for the task. "Make them well, and I'm prepared to pay you what you wish. If it's to take you time, or you have other business to attend to first, I'll quite understand - I have other business in town which craves my attention, and could return at a later date."

"I assure you, sir, that all my available swords have been crafted with the very best of my expertise. However, if you are wanting a custom-made weapon designed especially for your crew, I will most likely start the work upon my return. Of course you will be given a suitable discount for your trouble." Will shifted his bag strap back onto his shoulder as it was beginning to slip. "What is your preference?"

"I shall happily wait, and enjoy your best work upon your return," replied Hulliver, seating himself upon a small chair, and getting out his quill and journal.

"Now," he said, inking the nib, "if you fail to return to perform this task within three days, whom shall I say deserted me and my monies?"

"Will Turner," Will repeated.

"Feel free to use any of the facilities out the back way until I return. I must bid you good day, sir." He nodded to Senor Hulliver and headed out the front way, picking up his plumed hat from an anvil as he passed.

*********************************************************************

Ragetti sighed. He was sitting on the cold floor of his cell with nothing to do but think. Though he was glad he was no longer cursed and could therefore eat, drink, and be merry again, he did miss being immortal. If he were still immortal, then he would have no fear of the noose. That fear was very real to him now. They had been taking members of Barbossa's old crew off to be hung on a semi-regular basis. Ragetti knew it was only a matter of time until they got to him.

Ragetti feared death because he feared going to Hell. He was considering asking one of the guards for a Bible. He couldn't read, but he figured he would get points for trying. It may be just enough to insure the safety of his immortal soul. He rubbed his wooden eye. It itched and he winced as he felt another splinter stick out and into his flesh. He popped out the eye and started to try to smooth it down and thus temporarily ease his suffering.

Pintel watched his loyal if dim-witted friend from a dank corner of the cell. He wasn't best pleased either about being here watching his ex-crew fellows being dragged off to the gallows. Not that any of them had cared about the two of them. _Better them than us_, he thought.  
He threw a small pebble at Ragetti to get his attention.

"'Ere. Wot you lookin' so down in the face for? I 'ope yore not thinking we're done for as yet?" he called out of earshot from the guards. He made a gap-toothed grin. "I's got a plan, I 'as!"

As delicately as he might, Pintel pulled out a sliver of cold bacon from inside his shirt and waved it.

Ragetti pushed his eye back into place and smiled. They had both seen the scruffy dog who held the keys wandering about, but the mutt had a habit of not getting too close to the cells. No amount of calling could convince it to approach.

_Now we have a better chance!_ Ragetti thought. He got up and moved closer, a question popping into his mind.

"Where'd you get that from?" he asked quietly.

His chest swelling with pride, Pintel drew closer to his friend lest any guard pass and see the item in question.

"Well you knows 'ow I likes to think ahead? Ever since we kept seeing the old Cap'n Sparrow keep coming back from the dead, I always wondered perhaps it was a misfortune we ever mutinied. Wot wiv all that talk of Hell and such. Anyways, while we were minding the old _Pearl_ for Barbossa, I fort to myself...wot if we lost? We'd get thrown back in 'ere wiv that smelly ol' dog wot doesn't come for a normal bone.  
So I fort, and this is the clever bit, see? I fort...well just in case we ever got caught again, I'll look in the galley for somefink a dog wouldn't turn its nose up at and 'ave it for safekeeping. Ain't you lucky to 'ave a friend like me, eh?"

Pintel chuckled and crawled over to the door of the cell. Peering out along the corridor he could just make out the boot of a far off, slumbering guard. Closer still was a scruffy looking mutt with a bunch of keys in its mouth. Slowly he pushed half of the bacon out into the light of the corridor.

"Here poochie," he whispered.

Ragetti beamed and nodded. "That is very good thinkin', that," he muttered.

He walked over to the bars and tried to stick his head through one of the gaps as far as he could. He spotted the dog and could tell it was interested in the bacon. Ragetti licked his lips and whistled softly, putting in his two cents in trying to get the dog to come closer.

"Poochie" was a relatively happy dog. He was also rather a smart one considering his bedraggled appearance. It often turned out that the mangiest of flea-ridden animals were the wisest of their kind. His keen nose caught the scent of cold bacon from the cells nearby. He'd been tempted many a time by all sorts of titbits. One poor soul had even attempted prime, juicy steak. But what the prisoners didn't know about Poochie was that it wasn't just the strength of the temptation but also the sense of character of each unfortunate captive.

Not many months ago he'd almost been enticed by a colourful pirate waving the native 'BONE' at him. Poochie had grown to love that bone. He didn't gnaw it or anything so trivial. There was just a part of him that liked to see humans enjoy the amount of hope that this one bone gave them.

At the present moment, the bacon did smell relatively tasty. But had he not been sensing the waves of remorse emanating from the skinny one with the false eye, he probably wouldn't have budged an inch. Nevertheless, Poochie got up quietly, making sure the guard was unaware, and slowly padded towards the cells with his bunch of keys.

Ragetti's heart leaped with hope. "Good doggy! Come on! There's a _good_ dog!"

Even while he was encouraging the dog to come closer, he reflected on their good fortune. While they were there, none of their fellow pirates had ever gotten this close with getting the dog to approach. Perhaps there was a bit of divine intervention at work here in addition to Pintel's intelligence?

Pintel resisted the urge to let out a loud cackle as the dog came right up to the bars. Acting quickly, he offered the slab of bacon and snatched the keys. For security, he fussed the mongrel with a few good scratches on its chest before he got to his feet and ever-so-softly tried the keys one after the other in the lock. At last there was the satisfying click. He froze at the sound of the guard's stirring snort. Luckily the rhythmic snores recommenced and Pintel was able to ease the door open. Stepping out into the dark corridor, he put his finger to his lips and beckoned to Ragetti to follow.

A single excited, giddy chuckle escaped from Ragetti and he quickly put his hand to his mouth to stop it. He cast a careful look to the still sleeping guard and patted the dog on the head in thanks. As he tiptoed out, he spotted a small black book resting on a bench up against a wall. He pocketed it quickly, assuming he had found his Bible at last. Then he made good his escape with Pintel and started up the stone stairs.

Shaking his head at Ragetti's risky and thieving actions, Pintel scrambled up the stairs after him.

"We'd best not stick around 'ere long. I says we should borrow one o' them boats in the 'arbour and get clear. Don't know about you, but that's what I'm thinkin'. Coming?"

Without waiting more than a second for a reply, Pintel hurried off towards the more port-like part of Port Royal.

Ragetti felt like he had no choice but to follow. He knew he wouldn't do very well on his own. Getting a boat definitely seemed like a good idea. He didn't want to linger in Port Royal any longer than necessary.

Ragetti started after Pintel, jogging a bit to catch up. "Oi! Wait for me!"

Poochie finished off the piece of bacon and walked his paws up the frame of the cell door. Gently he pulled the door closed with the keys and turned it in the lock. He pulled the keys out carefully and returned to his station near the sleeping guard. No one would blame him. He was only a dog. And now the cell was locked, they couldn't blame anybody...

The dirty mutt let out a canine sigh and curled up to sleep on the stone floor.


	5. A Brace Of Thieves

**Chapter V: A Brace of Thieves**

Portly little Pintel puffed and wheezed onto the streets and towards the harbour, keeping a watchful eye out for guards. He was a bit of a coward to rush off without his friend but he felt sure the weaselly man would follow. Well, a little sure. What if he'd gotten caught? What if he'd turned out smarter than he had and had a better plan?

Maybe he was just around the corner.

Pintel shrugged and began to examine the chances of his future takings.

Ragetti was a little more fit than Pintel. He kept to the shadows as he followed his friend. He tried to be as watchful as he could for guards, but he was at a slight disadvantage when it came to keeping one eye on where he was going, and one eye on the local red coats. He heard the sound of someone approaching and ducked quickly behind a corner. Sure enough, two guards marched pass. Ragetti thought he recognized them from their battle on the _Dauntless_. The guards passed on by, oblivious to the escaped pirate. Ragetti worried about Pintel, but there seemed to be nothing he could do. He only hoped Pintel would become aware of the guards before the guards became aware of him.

Pintel saw the guards almost a second too late. He gasped and ducked into the frame of a shop doorway. He closed his eyes as if that would do any good at hiding him. He breathed a sigh of relief as the two rather dopey guards passed. A snaggle-toothed grin broke out on his face. Once he was sure the authorities were out of sight, he strode out onto the streets.

He walked smack into someone coming the other way.

Trembling, Pintel looked up to see the confused and stern face of William Turner.

When he was sure the guards had passed, Ragetti crept out. He hoped to catch up with Pintel before the guards found him. He rounded a corner and was forced to stop short - almost bumping into Will Turner's back. Ragetti could see Pintel standing just about face-to-face with the blacksmith. His good eye wide in alarm, Ragetti slowly backed away. He didn't want to alert Mr Turner that he was there, but at the same time he also didn't want to leave his buddy to face him alone. Ragetti reached for his sword, only to remember that he didn't have one. He gulped quietly and waited to see what would happen.

Will had been hurrying towards the harbour with the mind to making his own leave from Tortuga when the squat little pirate had bumped into him. The collision had caused him to drop his bag of supplies with a loud clang. When he'd realised what was going on, he frowned at Pintel.

"You!? What are you doing here?"

At any other time he would probably have either begun a fight or called for the guards, but in his dire hurry, he continued to the stunned and frightened pirate: "Never mind. Are you any good at commandeering ships?" he asked darkly.

Pintel whimpered at the sight of the strapping blacksmith barring his escape.

"Oh please, Mr Turner, don't..." he began to plead. Until his brain registered what the young man had said. "Eh?"

He suddenly caught sight of Ragetti hiding in the shadows. A plan started to form.

"Oh yes, yes sir. We, I mean, I am very well skilled in that par-_ticular_ area of expertise, heh heh. Why I'm sure we can find a boat to your liking. Going on a little trip are we?"

As he rambled, he tried to catch Ragetti's one eye and slightly tilted his head towards Mr Turner, hoping his friend would understand what he wanted him to do.

Ragetti frowned in surprise at Will. He wasn't expecting a question like that from him at all. He saw Pintel indicate Will with a look and a tilt of the head. He nodded and reached down to grab a good-sized rock. He snuck up behind Will and raised the rock over his head. Ragetti shot one last quick look to Pintel to make sure this was what he should do.

In too much of a sour mood to put up with Pintel's flattering tones, Will was blissfully unaware of the pirate creeping up on him.

"I'm not becoming a pirate if that's what you mean," he growled. "But if you want to leave here safely, I suggest you help me get out of Port Royal. I'm heading for Tortuga."

Pintel nodded in reply to Will and also at Ragetti's actions. He clearly wasn't listening properly. He wouldn't realise the foolishness of his plan until it was too late.

"Tortuga, y'say? How very interesting, sir! If you'll just step this way, we'll get you off to a _thumping_ good start..."

The fact that he'd slipped up and said 'we' did not matter at all. The full use of Mr Turner cropped up in Pintel's mind and he spun on his heel.

"Wait-!" he cried.

Ragetti didn't hesitate any longer. He smiled and brought the rock solidly down onto Will's head with a satisfying *thump!*

As the blacksmith crumpled unconscious, Pintel waved his arms frantically.

"No, no, you knucklehead!" he shouted at Ragetti. "Didn't you 'ear wot 'e was saying? 'E was gonna not tell any of those guards wot we was up to and given us an extra pair of sailing 'ands!" Pintel wrung his hands and clutched at the few tufts of hair he had remaining on his balding pate. "You know wot we'll 'ave to do now? We can't leave 'im 'ere to tell everyone we escaped. 'Elp me carry him. He'll have to come wiv us."  
He grabbed Will's ankles and lifted them as high as he could, which wasn't very high at all.

"It's not my fault!" Ragetti protested. "_You're_ the one who was indicating I should hit 'im on the 'ead!" Ragetti scooped his arms under Will's shoulders and lifted him up. "We should go down to the docks and hide. Perhaps a bit of water on 'is face will wake 'im up."

Pintel sighed and panted as he walked backwards towards the docks with the heavy burden. "Sorry. It was my fault, but really it's common sense wot makes people prevent fings from going wrong. I fink though that we should per'aps wait until we be a little way out from shore before we wakes 'im up. 'E's likely to be cranky wot wiv the lump you gave 'im."

He waddled them along one of the gangplanks, watching out for any guardsmen. Glancing over the vessels in the port, he nodded towards one in particular. "Wot do you fink of that ol' fishing ship over there? Look sea-wurvy to you?"

Ragetti looked towards the fishing ship. It wasn't the largest ship around, but that wasn't what they were after. They needed something small and fast that could be crewed by one or two men. The little ship seemed perfect.

"Sea-worthy enough to get us to Tortuga," Ragetti replied. He grunted slightly as they began to move towards it, never thinking the blacksmith would be so heavy. "Wot about that bag 'e dropped back there? Might 'elp us get 'im on our side if it were wit him."

Pintel chided himself for forgetting the bag.

"Aye, good thinkin' mate, good thinkin'! Per'aps it's got some vittles in too. Don't know about you, but I'm starved. Tell yer what, I'll get Mr Turner on board the ship an' you go fetch it. Don't worry, I can't set sail wivout yer anyways. We're in this together."

He smiled at his lifelong friend and hoisted the limp Will towards the waiting trawler.

Ragetti smiled and nodded. "Right."

Then he was off, running back toward the street where Will dropped his bag. He found it and lifted it up. It was quite heavy, but he managed.

_Why is it that everything around Turner tends to be heavy?!_ he wondered.

On his way back, Ragetti's foot caught a loose cobblestone and he fell. His wooden eye was knocked free and it rolled down the street. Cursing to himself and nursing fresh bruises, Ragetti dropped the bag and gave chase. He caught the eye before it rolled too far and promptly plonked it back into its socket. Upon returning to the bag, he saw a young boy looking at it curiously. Ragetti woofed at the lad, startling him. He yelped when he saw Ragetti's bizarre appearance and scampered away in fright. Ragetti smirked. Then he took the bag once again and hurried back to Pintel and their soon to be commandeered vessel.

"What kept you?" called Pintel conversationally as his friend returned.

"Nice work. Unloose the mooring line then get up 'ere and giz us the bag if yer please. Quick as yer like. The boy might wake up any moment."  
He glanced nervously at the man curled up on the fishing boat's deck.

"Lost me eye again," Ragetti muttered. He passed the bag to Pintel and untied the mooring line. Then he climbed aboard the boat and started work on unfurling the sails so they could catch the breeze, carefully stepping over Will as he did so.

"We'll 'ave to make ourselves a fortune one o' these days. Should the Lord wish to grant us it, then you's can 'ave that glass eye wot you need. I bet if we'd stayed with that Cap'n Sparrow, we'd 'ave profited enough to buy you three of the things. Just our luck, innit?"

Pintel rummaged through the bag.

"Cor, 'e ain't 'alf packed light after all. Few wafers and things for eatin'. Rest of it's a sword, huntin' knife, rope an' a pair o' pistols. Wonder where 'e got those from. Not the sort you find on decent people. Still...one man's loss another man's gain, eh?"

After filling his holster with one of the two pistols, he hurried off to raise the anchor and then bustled over to the helm.

"She's ready to cast off, mate. Say bye-bye to the King's army!"

Pintel cheered loudly and started to sail the boat out of port.

Ragetti chuckled and whooped with excitement. At last they were leaving this cursed port! He helped himself to Will's sword, sheathing it on his belt. He preferred swords to pistols, since the loss of one eye meant he had some trouble aiming. As a result, he was a rotten shot.

"I thinks there's a good chance we may meet ol' Jack in Tortuga," Ragetti said. "Maybe if we ask nicely, he'll let us on 'is crew again."

The pirate considered Will, who was still out of it. He poked him with his foot. Will groaned softly, but did not wake.

"Why d'you think Turner wanted to go to Tortuga anyway?"

Pintel puzzled over this as he turned the boat to face the sea.

"I dunno. Maybe 'e was out lookin' for Jack? They was a bit pally during that polaver wiv Barbossa, weren't they? Unless-," he stopped and chuckled. "Unless 'e's off to fight Jack fer stealin' 'is missis or summink." He looked over his shoulder to be sure there was no commotion on land at their departure. "I fink asking Jack to pardon us is prob'ly for the best. 'E was a good cap'n. Plus, if 'e forgives us, maybe our sins of mutinying will be absolved?"

Ragetti chuckled at the thought of Jack and Elizabeth together. He was there when they were abandoned on that little island together. Who could tell _what_ they got up to?

"I think we buy Jack enough rum and 'e'll forgive us for just about anythin'!"

Will awoke to the sound of someone saying the name 'Jack'. The equal annoyance and respect he held for the owner of the name disturbed enough of his senses to bring him around. His vision swam into focus and he looked up to see the two filthy rogues that had kidnapped him. They hadn't noticed him yet. Resisting the urge to groan from his aching head, he crawled slowly towards his abandoned bag of supplies.

Ragetti, thinking about getting himself a wafer to nibble on, chose that moment to look down at Will's bag. He saw the now awake man reaching for it. Ragetti remembered the weapons still inside the bag and unsheathed his newly acquired sword. He pointed the blade down at Will's throat.

"Don't even think 'bout it, Turner," Ragetti warned. He cast a quick look back to Pintel to make sure he knew what Will was up to.

Pintel squeaked in shock at the sight of the fully awake Will. He whipped out his newly-pilfered pistol and shook it at the boy, his other hand still on the wheel.

"No funny business all right, lad? I'm sorry I did wot I's did but I couldn't be 'aving with you turning us in to the guards. Whether you's likes it or not, we're not in Port Royal anymore and you follows by our rules. Got it?" He glared.

Ragetti glared as well, or at least as much as he could with one good eye. At this point in time, he didn't _really_ want to hurt Will, especially since they were probably going to need him in the future. He waited to see if the blacksmith had anything to say.

Will crawled back from the sword-point and picked himself up slowly.

"Where are you taking me?" he demanded.

_Great,_ he thought. _Brilliant plan, Will. Get yourself all kitted out to go after Jack and then let yourself get captured by pirates. That's all I need._

_I hope Elizabeth found that letter I left her..._

"We're goin' to Tortuga," Ragetti replied, lowering the sword slightly. "Per'aps to find Jack Sparrow. We're keen to see if 'e won't have us on 'is crew again."

Scowling, Pintel sneered at his friend.

"Oh very good. Why don't you tell 'is lordship our 'ole plan an' all!"

He continued to aim the pistol at Mr Turner, now speaking to him once more.

"Aye, Tortuga it is we're goin' to, but if you try anything, the only place yore goin' is -" He gestured downwards at the sea.

Will shrugged. He decided that the calmer approach would work better with these buffoons.

"Seeing as I was heading out to find Jack anyway I'd rather stay aboard." His eyes narrowed, specifically on Ragetti, as he believed him to be the more impressionable. "But my prayers are with you if you can't sway Jack to let you join. Somehow I doubt he holds mutineers in a very good light. I bet you didn't even see the look in his eyes as he used his last shot on your old Captain."

"Who's he goin' ta tell?" Ragetti argued. He used the sword to gesture to Will. " 'E said he was goin' to Tortuga too and what does 'e care if we're on Jack's crew or not?"

Pintel shuddered at the thought of the sight of the captain's death he'd never witnessed. He did not know how cold Captain Sparrow could look and he didn't intend on finding out.

"I know it ain't 'is business," he snapped at Ragetti, concerning Mr Turner. "But that don't mean to say that 'e won't put in a bad word to Jack if'n 'e 'as a mind to. Everyone knows Mr Turner 'elped Jack get back the Pearl so it's as likely they're still pals. Ain't that right?" He scowled at Will.

Amused at the bickering of the two pirates, Will leaned comfortably against the outer walls of the trawler cabin. "Jack and I _are_ friends," he answered._ At least, as far as I know, we are_, he thought. _Well, I suppose he's an acquaintance...we're acquaintances on good terms. Better not tell them that though._

"So I'd be careful how you treat me if I were you. Maybe the Captain wouldn't care if you harmed me. But then again...maybe he would..." He smiled dangerously. "And you might as well put that pistol down," he said to Pintel. "It's not loaded."

Ragetti began to feel nervous, though he tried his best to hide it. He knew Will was smart, and definitely better at fighting with a sword than him. He tightened his grip on the hilt, his feeling of optimism quickly evaporating.

Checking the pistol's compartment, Pintel saw that Will was right. He scowled and threw the useless weapon on the deck.

"Whatever sir commands," he said with a thin-lipped smile.

And the three men in the boat drifted off across the waves.


	6. The Stylish Arrival Of Mr Redbloom

**Chapter VI: The Stylish Arrival Of Mr Redbloom**

"Captain, we're here!" shouted Titan.

Surreal sat alone in her cabin like she had for the most part of the voyage. She shouted out a muffled response to Titan then collected her knives. She kept two of her meanest blades; her stiletto under her dress while the other was sheathed, and hooked, into the belt around her waist.

"Now I'm ready. Jack Sparrow, watch out as I'm on the hunt!"

Surreal smiled to herself. She left her cabin and proceeded onto the helm, in order to get docked at Tortuga and start her search, which would begin at the last place she'd seen Jack; the tavern.

***********************************************************************************

Mr Albannon Redbloom sailed upon his raft so proud, tired, dejected and sick of the world.

_Ha, ha! I have been alone too long._

The night was young and the storms were high, rocking and rolling, He spied land (or crashed 'pon it in truth), his poor raft sunk beneath the waves. He scrambled and fought hard to reach shore, keeping his hat in sight and his cane underarm, he fell exhausted upon the beach. Barely able to think or move he passed from the waking world to his long and secret dreams.

_Ahh! _he awoke with a start, calling some name forgotten before finished, his mind was lost. Before he could ponder his dreams of old, he noticed another patron of the beach. The man was drunk and surely fast asleep. He twisted and turned and gave Albannon a fright. Not another had he seen in quite a few nights. He ruffled his pockets and produced a rusty knife. He rose upon his cane, approached the sleeper and said:

"Hail sir, are you awake?" but alas no reply, the man lay quite still.

"Are you awake!" he shouted, loud but not so loud as to draw attention. Still no rousing, not even a flinch. _Was the man dead?_ he thought and instantly made up his mind. _Thievery for now, is pleasant enough_. He stole the man's potato, apple and spyglass.

Disappointed at his finds he stood right up, balanced upon his trusty cane, and observed through the spyglass the town ahead. A cigar, a warm fire and some good food he required. He took one last look at his victim, who stirred. He chortled a quick chortle. _Mr Albannon Redbloom is here!_ And he proudly strode (if rather limply) into town.

***************************************

Mr Redbloom stuck his hungry nose around the door of the tavern. He found the smell quite repulsive and the patrons rather seedy. Nevertheless food and a bed were his desires, thus he stumbled to the bar. He whipped out the spyglass and proudly he said: "A room for the night sturdy barman, and a fine slap up lunch."

"What ye paying with?" replied the barman in a chucklesome tone.

"The spyglass, you fool," said Albannon, raising his cane, "and be quick about it."

"You'll get lunch, only bread and cheese mind you. I have no rooms to spare, so out in the cold for ye."

_Tish and pish, oh well what's another night in the wild,_ he concluded.

"Thank you," he cried, and headed for an empty table. The bar was loud; too much din for him, but suffer it he did, for he was hungry, cold and tired. _I'll stay inside a little longer, just to warm me up, I'll feel better I'll warrant_. When his lunch came he ate it in silence, looking around, wondering, studying, watching his peers and fellow patrons. _Oh! What a smelly place,_ he thought whilst chomping his food. He noticed many sailors and pirate types, but tried to keep quiet. He chomped upon his bread and plotted his next move.

_The night is young, and I have a plan_ he thought, then he sat there and chuckled.

Albannon stood, triumphant after devouring his meal.

_Now is my time!_ he decided.

He cleared his throat, struggled to the full of his stature, stroked his beard, and prepared to speak. His nerves were affray, but determined he stayed. He rose his cane, magnificent and bold, cleared his throat yet again and toppled to the floor. After turning the odd head with his foolish display, he knew he must regain and attain his status. After regaining his stance, he crashed his cane upon the table.

"I am a fine sailor, damnit, who will give me work? I'll do anything and kill anyone! I need money and a roof over my head, A fine soldier I would make, ship's officer too, damnit, work is what I require!"

Once again to be found in his usual haunt for the last couple of nights, Jack Sparrow peered up at the man in the centre of the room, his eyes calculative. Either this arrival was unfamiliar with Tortuga or he was desperate. On the one hand, intervening with this loud fellow might affect Jack's reputation. On the other, the intervention might improve matters and save the brassy guy from a trip to the pigpen. If Jack had had another hand to consider, he'd have pointed out to himself that he didn't much care for his own reputation save that people knew he existed.  
Since the incident with the _Pearl_, a few of his crew had sought fit to part ways; some simply making a hasty escape; others of the sort that involved shaking fists and death-threats if they ever clapped eyes on him or his 'stinking ship' again. The idea of a fresh crewmember wasn't looking too bad.

Jack attempted to get the man's attention without causing a fuss.

"Psst!"

The fact that he was still hidden behind a tall, potted fern made for a very odd start to a conversation.

Upon completing his speech, Mr Albannon Redbloom felt his audience had become devoid of interest (his speeches were not as they once were). In fear of being shunted from the bar (after such a display, who could expect not to be?), he made quietly for the exit. As he walked past, mulling some previous event of a similar nature, he noticed a shuffle behind a potted plant, a hiss confirming the presence of another elusive patron of the bar.

_How crude, _he judged, but yet could not deny his interest. _This screw-loose may be of some use. Unless he's a badger _–

Realising his current locale he remembered that badgers are most often kept to temperate climates. He tipped his hat, smartened his beard and pushed the leaves aside with his cane.

_He might kill me...I think not…_

_- _and then he peered upon the gentleman, hiding away. Not sure what to make of the sight he beheld, he stood forth and proclaimed: "Good afternoon, can I help you, or can you help me? Perhaps you have some money or a cigar?"

Sparrow smiled, allowing his more metallic teeth to shine sincerely. "I'm afraid I don't cater much for cigars and those fancies, mate," he said quietly. "But I do have a proposal. I've got jobs on offer amongst one of the most genteel crews you can 'ave. Fastest ship there ever was and so fated to be a generous safety for the valuable takings one might acquire. So long as you're not one of an honest background, of course."  
He leant back comfortably in his seat. "If adventure and plunder are your ideals..."

Jack passed his hands before his face in a tricksy manner. A couple of gold coins peeked between his ring-adorned fingers and vanished as soon as they had appeared.

"...then we might have an accord." Gently, he pushed the chair beside him out with his boot in a manner of offering. "What say you?"

Albannon peered deeply into the eyes of this bemusing stranger, noticing the teeth and the pirate about him, he pondered a little. _I think this gentleman is just what I need...though his grin is somewhat annoying_. He twisted his beard and fondled his cane. A plan simmered is his mind.

"Treasure you say, and goodies beside? I am most untrustworthy and greatly undesirable, I have worn the same clothes for five years, sir, and still you people stink." His ambition swelled, his stomach churned. _Something must be done about this cigar shortage…_

He thrust his cane into the odd fellow's chin: "Propose away sir, but I will not be taken in."

Redbloom paused for a few eerily long moments, then -

_Oh I'm back, _he thought, fixing his eyes upon the gentleman. "Tell me the location of cigars or buy me a few, and I will hear out your proposition. Mess me around sir, and you will see my devious side. Be good to me and I shall share my tricks."

Jack smirked at the cane pressing against the twin braids of his beard, retaining his inane beam.

"Nice stick," he said. "But it seems you already know the most-part of my proposal, being the clever soul I'm sure you are."

He closed his mouth and put on a darker face. Inside his head, however, his thoughts whizzed away like bees in the heat season. _He's worn those clothes for _five _years_? he thought. _Ick_. Then he wondered how long he'd worn his own things...ah well, at least he smelt better than _most_ pirates, but he wasn't about to say that the reason was his uncanny talent for falling overboard.

"But if you insist, I'm sure the gentlemen over in that corner, the one with the smokiest aroma, might aid you in your quest. Then, if you're still of the mind to 'earn' a living, set yourself over 'ere and I might even donate a drink to your cause."

At this point, Surreal entered the tavern flanked by Titan. She walked with a sexy sway, which she emphasized as Titan made his own way to the bar. She surveyed her surroundings until out of the corner of her eye she spotted her prey; talking to a rather strange fellow, but then she considered Jack's appearance and decided he was still the weirdest out of the both of them.

Surreal had found out the whereabouts of Jack Sparrow once they had arrived at Tortuga. _The women in this town are so helpful_, she thought. She kept her quarry in her sight as she followed after Titan in a most seductive walk.

"Hey sugar, a glass of your finest wine," she asked the barman. Even though Surreal preferred whiskey on the rocks, she felt the need to ask for a drink that a woman would ask for. "Thanks sugar!" she replied as she handed over some silver coins. She made her way to an empty table and faced the front entrance so she could keep her eye on everything. When anybody looked her way she gave them a sexy smile and a wink. She was here to get some attention as she needed to find out as much about Captain Jack Sparrow as possible before she decided to make her move.

Titan had ordered a pint of rum then found a quiet table over the other side of the room to Surreal to sit at while he kept his eye on her at all times. He had to admit that when she wanted to be sexy she could pull it off, though he couldn't help that whenever any of the drunken men in this bar started to stare at her, he'd get very protective and then have to have an internal battle to stop himself from knocking them silly. He knew that he would only stay here for a couple of pints, find out what he could about the pirate that Surreal kept her eye on, and then he'd be back to the ship for some kip.

Mr Redbloom, confuddled by the demeanour of his newfound acquaintance, took his advice and strode over to the smoky gentleman in the corner. _I'm going to get this right_. As he approached the man he noticed briefly the two new customers...

_Hmm...I wonder,_ he smiled to himself and kept an eye on the lady, as he approached the old man. The man had a rich smell about him, the first tobacco he had savoured nasally in a quite a number of years. He had rosy cheeks and held a pipe in his hand. Mr Redbloom raised his cane and struck it sharply upon the table.

"I hear you have cigars, sir! I'm afraid I am quite unable to pay, but one smoker to another I'm sure you will understand my predicament."

The man looked, smiled and said: "You sure are a queer fellow, but here's what I'll do...I'll give you one cigar... so long as you smoke it with me and another to be on your way."

"Thank you kindly," Albannon said awkwardly, dreading the line of conversation, and looking around desperately to keep an eye on his pirate.  
The old man proceeded to chat and chat, and blunder on, shifting subject from smoking, to his daughter, to the old smoky barn down the road. Redbloom noted a little and ignored most, quite content to smoke and offer the odd "yes","hmmm" and "really", enveloped in the joys of civilization.

_Aah, that's better_ he thought, despite the conversation... _all life is back in me!_ He broke a smile and grinned to gentleman and said: "May I acquire that cigar for the road?"

"Oh, but we were just getting along so well" the man chortled.

"I have pressing business, sir and a job to get, thank you kindly for the cigar..."

"All right, sir there you go... don't be causing no trouble, I like it quiet."

Albannon let out a short sharp laugh, and turning to leave, said: "I'll keep out of trouble, but I don't promise not to cause it."

With that he strode away and looked around the bar. His friend was being watched… _how quaint_. He made for an empty table, flopped down his hat, lit his cigar and signalled the pirate.

_There is something odd afoot here, I'll be bound._

A little reluctant to leave his pot-plant refuge, Jack's moustache twitched after he had been summoned. He glanced quickly about the inn, making note of the floor a great deal. He half-noticed the peculiar lass he'd seen about the place that morning, but his business and his over-confidence for the time being saw no suspicion in the fact she had been looking at him. Same with the young whippersnap nearby, who was equally regarding the girl and Jack himself. What could he do if the world wanted women to fall at his feet and have the men wanting cold, sweet revenge? Not a widget.

Jack reached out for his unfinished vessel of rum but paused in the effort. It wasn't very sensible to drink during a proposal, unless it was with Mr Gibbs. Maybe just the one...

He scooped up the tankard and sauntered over to the bar, his eyes now fixed on Mr Redbloom.

"What's your poison, mate?"

Mr Redbloom saw the wobbling figure stumble in his direction, excitedly clasping a bottle of rum. Albannon was certain that this man would prove to be quite notorious, but he didn't care - Life was Albannon's current goal. _If I was to... no...not yet_. He suckled deeply upon his cigar and engulfed himself in a plume of smoke._ A useful ally perhaps..._

"I will have whatever is going, my fine-hatted friend... I have not drunk a drop in two years sir so I am liable to become rather merry...The last thing I tasted was a weak grog and I assure you sir, it was not good stuff."

He blew a puff of smoke in the pirate's face and smiled. _Fun...Fun...fun_. He tipped his hat, twirled his cane, plucked his beard and said: "Fix me with a drink sir and we shall talk business, that is a fine flask you have about you, may I sample?"

Never to be forgotten, ol' Blake played gently in the corner, his squeezebox wheezing melodically from a vantage point by the bar. Ending his instrumental shanty, he locked the bellow, and grabbed a half-coconut of caipirissima, swigging it down joyously, noting the wondrous new invention of the little paper umbrella, and keeping an eye affixed securely on Surreal SaDiablo. This was a day to stack his tasks, he could see. She, he was quite sure, was the standout of this bar, the one to watch just at this moment, to derive tales to tell.

Taking in a circumspection, Blake eyed the room. Plenty going on, plenty for him to watch if Madame SaDiablo glanced his way. Plenty for her to be watching, to boot. Where were her eyes and weapons headed today? The lady hadn't minced in here for the refreshment. Blake rested his empty vessel on the bar, removed its tiny paper parasol from his beard, and rested it in the cup. Maybe Surreal would come round to enjoy his songs, his rumbustuous personality and his unique breath. If not, whoever it was her glinting knives, so cunningly concealed, her oriental swords, or her sharpened shoe of the future might be heading for, maybe that waiting victim would enjoy a song of warning first.

Having delicately slipped his free hand into the pocket of a whiskey-soaked man dancing a jig with another sloshed fellow, Jack removed a few fluff-ridden coins and a couple of peanuts. All the while, he continued to smile at his acquaintance.

"Much more better, mate. I can get you one of the same," he said to Mr Redbloom.

Jack crunched down the peanuts and attracted the barman with the coins. Once he'd been served, he seated himself opposite Redbloom and pushed the full rum tankard towards him.

"There. That stuff'll put hairs in places you never knew you 'ad."

The prettily adorned pirate shook off a deal of his joviality and made confident eye contact with the stranger.

"The name's Captain Jack Sparrow."

He said no more for now, waiting for any sign of whether his reputation preceded him.

Redbloom was puzzled at the strange look on the fellow's face somehow he thought he was expected to know something. "Never heard of you, sir... but then again I expect you've never heard of me, Mr Albannon Redbloom...no I thought not, I've been away for some years."

Mr Albannon looked at the pirate intently. Searching his mind... _nothing…_ then again he had had a trying time. _I don't get these pirate types… _

"Well sir," he said, thumping his fist on the table. "This is fine rum!...What is your proposal...? I suggest you don't dilly-dally too, I am liable to become quite enraged. I have a penchant for thievery sir. If you don't mind when this proposal is over... could you help me steal a few things - vitals I cannot do without aboard a ship?"

He puffed smoke in Jack's face and grinned awaiting his response.

Jack blinked at the smoke and let his smile return once more. His eyes seemed to drink in a person's behaviour like the very rum he was wanton to consume. Sadly, Sparrow had a tendency to either underestimate other people or seriously overestimate his powers of persuasion.

"By all means, Mr Redbloom. What is it that takes your fancy to be brought aboard my ship? These vitals, per se, would they be easier takings the like of the average Tortugan lass and food? Or do your needs lie elsewhere? As for my proposal. All I want from you is a decent assurance that you'll follow orders, stay true to the Code...ignoring the fine print. If you don't know of the Code, I'm sure you'll discover it as you go along. Any plunder we take is split equally amongst the crew...some more equal than others. You'll be fed, as well rested as you can be out at sea, and seeing as the _Pearl_'s as fast as they come you'll be 'aving no worries of being outrun by any of those military whatnots.

"Furthermore, I'm an open man and if you ever feel the need to stay behind at a port and settle down from this sort of life, you'll have no sore feelings. A man can do what he wants in my humblest of opinions.

"Do we have an accord?"

_What is he babbling about?... Who knows_- Albannon pondered awhile . This fellow was quite the pickle, but it mattered not. He, Mr Albannon Redbloom, would wing his way along as usual.

"A general yes to your queries sir... though I do have a basic tendency to depart or wander...and an assurance from you that I will have all comforts befitting a man of my brilliance, I hope of a high rank sir...not piffling crew... The things I require: just cigars, a new shirt, a keg of rum or two, a reasonable quantity of paraffin, matches ...I am sure you already have gunpowder. I need my fire-making equipment for my best duties...perhaps a sword wouldn't go amiss either, quality really doesn't matter. I assure you sir I am not willing to pay an inch for anything. I deserve riches... but sir on your ship I shall play along with your charge...whatever it may be... and I shall hope for treasure too, a lot pray, and I hope my good work will prove to gain an extra-equal share of the treasure. I have plans Jack, I hope you understand... some of which I may share with you."

He slammed his cane upon the table, and raised his bottle on high!

"A toast to our alliance Jack Starroh...HA HA...a toast indeed...may it bring many treasures!"

He slammed his bottle hard into Jack's.

"CHEERS! So, this ship, what is she called, when do we sail? We have a little thieving to do!"

_Starroh?_ Jack thought. _That was a new one_. Nevertheless, he resisted correcting the proud man since this tended to involve an embarrassing few moments where he would flap like a bird to explain his name. _Damn, this man was hard to please. Good for him. _Jack had considered offers as they came and nodded in encouragement, though was slightly taken unawares with the strong toast.

"No worries, mate. If it's not crew work you're looking for, I'm sure we can find you something more to your liking. Even if that means you're more profitable when we make ports, I think you'll make a fine balance for your costs. The rum and smokes are always kept in stock for the well-being of my crew. Um...matches are plenty." He tapped a finger on his lips in thought. "Ah, the other items may be best found at a place not a day's sail from here. My ship is the _Black Pearl_. She's currently 'aving a little bit of a service but if you 'ave no quarrel, I plan to borrow another ship just for the trip for your sword and such. If you're up for that, what say we finish our drinks and head off? Whenever you're ready, of course." He straightened up and took a deep swig of his rum.

"Well Jacky old chum, it seems we are in accordance and we have a deal, I have a small quantity of business to attend to at present, which requires my attention alone..." He rolled his cigar around in his mouth, and gave the pirate another face full of smoke. "If you would acquire the supplies I have asked for I will meet you here in a few days. I have a treasure map to acquire sir...something which I assume you will be interested in." He peered deep into Jack's eyes. "Get the stuff meet me here and we shall go treasure hunting...I give you my word...for what it's worth in this business...thus I bid you farewell...return here with my goods and a map you shall have sir."

Mr Albannon jumped up, forcibly shook the pirate's hand and strode out of the bar.

"Goodbye sir!...Until we meet again!"

Jack waved farewell to Redbloom and watched as he exited the tavern. Sure he was gone, he commenced to flex the hand that had been overly shaken, and then made a point of fanning away what remnants of smoke hung about his table.

_A treasure map, aye?_ That certainly _was_ interesting.

Captain Sparrow drained the last of his tankard, placed it gently on the tabletop and slid out from the table. Tipping his hat at a few locals, he zigzagged out of the tavern.


	7. What A Pretty Boat!

**Chapter VII: What A Pretty Boat!**

Surreal had watched the scene with Jack and his unknown companion unfold. Just once she had glanced up at Titan, making eye contact. He had understood what this meant. She'd given the bar one last look before she focused her attention on Jack, having noticed that bloody accordion player Mr Blake - this made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. _What is he doing here and why is he watching me_? Surreal had been an assassin for enough years to know when someone was keeping an eye on her. She'd noticed movement from the corner of her eye in Jack Sparrow's vicinity. The gentleman who talked to Jack had left and Jack had started to make his way out of the tavern.

Surreal silently cursed. _That bloody Blake nearly made me miss him!_ Leaving her table and slowly making her way to the tavern door, she smiled at all the men on her way out, hoping that none of them would be stupid enough to try and stop her. After leaving the tavern she noticed that Jack was making his way to the harbour. Surreal suddenly felt tired after her day. This was becoming a very frequent occurrence. Deciding to call it a night she made her way to her ship, but she kept an eye on Jack even as she passed him.

Titan had surveyed the tavern though kept his eyes on Surreal to make sure she was safe. He'd noticed Blake long before Surreal had. When she'd looked about the room their eyes met and Titan understood the message behind the blankness of her eyes. She had wanted him to leave. He understood that she was ready to go but wanted him to go ahead and check on her ship. He had left his table, tempted to knock out some of the men that gaped at Surreal but thought better of it as she didn't need the attention. He'd left the Tavern without another thought, heading back to the _Kaelas_ to wait for her.

*************************************

Albannon swiftly left the town, clutching his cane. _I hope he keeps to it,_ he thought pondering his new captain.

Puffing the remains of his desperately deserved cigar, he trundled deep into the forest (tripping over the branches and falling in streams as he went)...

He hacked at the vines with his cane... focusing, remembering and in fear of what he had to do. As he left sight of the town he took one last look at civilization, he smiled...then was overcome with sadness. He turned to face the jungle ahead and stepped into the maze.

_I just know I'll get lost again…_

***************************************************************

As the evening started to draw in, the harbour of Tortuga became somewhat more peaceful - the nightlife beginning further inland. Of course there were crewmembers keeping a watchful eye on their vessels, but generally the place was almost attractive. Captain Jack Sparrow slinked along the gangplanks and pouted at the bobbing form of his beautiful _Pearl_. Her injured hull creaked sadly at him.

"I'm sorry, love," he whispered. "I'll 'ave you fixed up soon. Just need to make a little side-trip. You're the only one for me, know that."

He patted the _Pearl_'s mooring line. The coarse feel of the rope set a plan in his mind. Not too far off was a spare coil of rope, which he picked up and examined. Next, he rummaged through a pile of equipment beside some dozing sailors until he found what he wanted. Jack prowled the shadows, scouring the harbour for a vessel he intended to borrow. Some moments later he looked up at the sturdy structure of the _Kaelas_. Smaller than the _Pearl_ and foreign, probably teeming with crew...but it struck his fancy nonetheless.

Only his grin shining in the shadows, Sparrow sneaked around the back of the ship, tossed up his newly-fashioned grapple hook and clambered quietly towards the upper deck.

Titan paced as he watched and waited for Surreal. He'd spotted Jack emerge from the tavern and knowing Surreal he'd bet 1000 Galleons that she was right behind him. Then he'd seen her. He could tell by the way she walked she had probably had enough and wanted her bed. He could also tell that Surreal was pretty upset about something, though he was unsure what.

Glad that she was back aboard her home, Surreal entered her cabin and called Titan to see her. Once safe inside she started to change. A knock came at the door.

"Enter," she shouted as she replaced her dress once again with trousers and a shirt. "All right, let's skip the details. What did you notice?" She'd spoken more sharply than she'd intended. "Sorry, I didn't mean to snap, I'm feeling very tired and before you start, that's why I called it a night!"

He told her everything that he'd noticed while he was sat in the tavern, he'd paid close attention to her eyes as he spoke to see if any names produced a response, one did.

Titan glanced out the window and saw Jack eying up their ship and grin. It was the silliest grin he'd ever seen, but it made him nervous just the same, as he was hoping the pirate wasn't thinking what he thought he might be. He decided not to mention this to Surreal, as she was pretty annoyed as it was without telling her that he suspected that her prey was eying up her ship.

After he'd made his report Titan went below deck and ordered the men to report anything suspicious to him, not Surreal. He also made it clear that if anyone tried to get aboard the ship, they were to be brought before him bound and gagged. No exceptions.

Jack Sparrow had only just scrambled past the captain's cabin window when the room had become occupied. He touched down on the quarterdeck and crept up behind the man nearest the helm. The main deck was swarming with crewmen, which was a bit strange considering he'd not seen so many when he'd first approached the ship. If they'd been forewarned, he'd have to act quickly. Which happened sooner than he thought. The man he was sneaking up to turned on his heel and Jack had no choice but to pull out his pistol and press it against the man's chest. Fortunately, being a small pirate, Jack knew that he was hidden behind the bulky frame of this man from the eyes of the rest of the ship.

"No sudden moves, mate," Sparrow whispered. "I want you to listen very closely. I'm gonna let you turn around, and you're gonna call the nearest man over here nice and easy, savvy? Play nice and we can all get by 'appy as lambs."

Titan was stood at the helm when he heard quiet steps behind him. As he spun on his heel he came face to face with Jack Sparrow. He was struggling not to laugh as the pirate held his pistol at Titan's chest. Titan listened to what he had to say and when he had finished, Titan made his face totally blank. He analysed the situation and decided that he'd make the pirate sweat. As he said that Titan could call someone, there was only one person he'd call - Surreal. The problem was he was hoping she wasn't too tired to deal with this.

"All right, mate, if that's how you want to play it, I'll get you the person you need to speak to," Titan replied to Jack. "Morgan! Get Kaetien and Surreal, there's someone here who would like to speak to them," Titan said to the man near her cabin. Titan looked at Jack and smiled. "They should be able to give you what you want!"

Jack gritted his teeth as the man he had chosen to threaten calmly called in the wrong way about the wrong sorts of things. _Damn those brave types to the depths! _His eyes narrowed as the one called Morgan vanished below, and raised the pistol to Titan's forehead.

"That was a stupid and unwise thing to do, lad. I did _not_ say you were to tell anyone else of my being aboard this ship. But seeing as I did not say you were not to tell anyone of my being aboard this ship, it's not like you could deny I was rather unclear on the matter of whether you should or should not in fact tell anyone of my actual presence. "So, you'd better 'ave just called up refreshments or summink, or so 'elp me you're in for a rough time." He was still able to look menacing despite his, very little more than cute, height.

Surreal had a feeling that something was going on, and then Stubleg Morgan came crashing into her cabin. "Sorry for the intrusion but Titan asked for you and Kaetien. It looks like trouble!" Stubleg hurriedly explained.

"Thank you, Stubleg. Tell the crew to be ready. If there's trouble, Titan would only call me for one reason," Surreal spoke calmly.

Stubleg excused himself to give the crew her message. Surreal went to the room and picked up Kaetien.

_Titan the only time I actually remember that you called me was when my target had stupidly bumped into you, this must mean Jack Sparrow is on my ship. He's going to regret this,_ Surreal was thinking with great satisfaction.

She removed her sword and her meanest knife and headed out of her cabin to the helm. She saw Jack holding a gun to Titan's head. Before either of them noticed her, she threw one of her knives. It caught Jack's pistol, knocking it out of his hand, and then lodged itself into the mast behind them.

"Now that I've got your attention, sugar, what are you doing on my ship?" She had already covered the distance so that she was only feet from them both. She focused totally on Jack, gave him a sexy smile and raised her eyebrow while waiting for him to answer her question.

His intuitive sense of the man in front of him told Jack that side-stepping to retrieve his pistol from where it lay behind Titan was probably not the best idea he'd had that day. One hand lingered near the hilt of his cutlass, but he was fairly concerned the tricksy woman with the knife might have another one stowed away ready to make him lose another item or even a hand. Giving up on the offensive strategy, Jack gave a twinkling grin and turned to address the one he did not yet know as Surreal.

"Oh, my apologies. This is _your_ ship? My mistake. Can't hold it against me, aye? Lovely boat like this. Can't be too careful. I dare say it's lucky I stopped by to prevent some misfortune happening to her." As he sugarcoated his words, he slowly backed off towards the stern of the ship.

Surreal watched Jack edge away. She found this highly amusing as she remembered what the young whelp at the blacksmiths told her about Jack. "Umm, sugar, do you mind not edging away? Seeing as you've come all this way onto my ship you might as well stay for a drink. Rum, of course. Let's get to know each other a little better. Also, let me clear this up. Yes the _Kaelas_ is my ship and Titan who is stood next to you is my brother. Just so you understand me you have no choice about the talk. My cabin or the cells, your choice!" Surreal answered with venomous sweetness in her voice.

This is more like it, thought Blake, as he watched the scene unfold from the rigging. On this occasion, his instrument was firmly closed inside its case - it had been a hard enough job sneaking aboard without drawing their attention to his sweet, sweet music. Would a kill be made? Would this woman be as active as she was talkative? Would there be a story to repeat for many years to come? Scratching his beard, Blake hoped, watched and listened.

Jack's expressions shifted amusingly between a cornered mouse and a proud cat. He stopped retreating and beamed at Surreal. He matched her venom with a honeyed tone. "Couldn't 'ave said it better meself, love. Sounds a fine plan." Part of him wondered if the lass recognised him for the loveable, famous scallywag he was. He wasn't about to let opportunities for negotiation to pass. He strode towards her, smirking at Titan as he went.

"Wise choice. Follow me, sugar." Surreal replied as she made her way to her cabin.

Surreal closed the door to her cabin after Jack entered. She indicated to the chair in front of her desk. "Take a seat, Mr Sparrow," she spoke to him as she raided her drinks cabinet and pulled out two bottles of rum. She handed one to Jack then leant on her desk just feet from him.  
Surreal took a swig of her bottle then decided that she'd be nice as she thought Jack looked a little cute, particularly as she could see that he felt a little cornered.

"So, let's start at the beginning. I've seen your ship. A bit of a wreck, ain't it? What happened to it? I'm guessing that is why you're on my ship. Where were you going to sail after you'd commandeered it?" Surreal took another swig of her rum. She decided that if she got Jack drunk she'd find out more than if he were scared. Surreal knew that her rum was actually watered down but Jack's wasn't, so she could keep this going all night if she had to.

Keeping a close eye all around him still, Jack not-so-discreetly sniffed the lid of his rum bottle before allowing himself a sip. She'd known his name. Not always a good thing but his pride swelled.

"_Borrowed_ your ship, lass. Only meant to borrow it. To tell the truth it was my plan just to nip over to that there Port Royal, pick up a few items and return with her safe as 'ouses. My ship suffered a small mishap when _someone_ put fire a little too close to some rather dangerous barrels. Nothing a few days of tweaking with new wood won't fix." His gaze dropped back to the neck of his bottle. _Maybe just one more sip..._

Surreal could tell that he suspected that she would try to poison him. That made watching him all the more entertaining.

"Port Royal, hmm? Well how about if I give you a proposition? You tell me what I want to know, then I'll take you to Port Royal and bring you back here free of charge. You see I have some business in Port Royal. We were planning on sailing out there once we've got some supplies. What do you say?" Surreal slurred. She gave Jack a nice yet saucy smile. She decided that maybe being a woman might give her a bit of an advantage with this man.

Surreal shifted so that she was sat on the desk instead of leaning on it. After she took another swig of her rum, she started to act a little drunk, as she decided that he would think that he could take advantage of this situation.

The room suddenly felt a lot warmer, which was not so comforting when your back had chills running a marathon on it. Jack gripped his bottle tighter and let himself slide a little more easily in his chair. He leant forward and moved his hands as though he were conducting an orchestra of fleas while he talked.

"I'll have you know, love, I'm very open to _propositions_, and I say the one you're offering is surely one of the most intriguing." He drew incredibly close, aware that at the height he was sitting, his nose was almost brushing her dangling knee. Jack smiled slyly at her and then slumped once more against the back of his chair, regaining his more pompous demeanour. "Of course, that's all going to depend on what it is you're wanting to learn from me."

"Well that is some useful information." Surreal slid off the desk, moved so that she was inches from his face and she whispered, "What kind of propositions are you open for?" In one swift movement she straddled him. She kept him pinned so that he couldn't move, but she could feel his chest rise with every breath. Surreal knew that he could feel every movement she made. That was why she was doing this. She bit her lip in a very sexy yet shy way. "Well, sugar?"

Jack's eyes widened. The moment she had leapt on him and knocked the wind out of him he had dropped his bottle in shock. Fortunately it didn't break but rolled under the desk instead.

"Not good," he wheezed under his breath. Then, remembering himself, he looked up at her and smiled nervously.

"Ah yes, propositions," he continued, rather more high-pitched. He let his eyes wander the ceiling and the walls, not quite drunk enough yet to look such a forward woman in the face. "Well...most kinds really..." He gulped as she moved over him. "Particularly the more _uplifting_ ones."

"Am I making you nervous?" Surreal teased.

She shifted closer to him knowing that it made him anxious, but she did this so that she could pick up his bottle of rum. She leaned all the way back so that she could reach the floor. After she'd got the bottle, she moved with ease and grace as she righted herself.

"Here's your rum, sugar. So you like uplifting propositions do you? Well I know one that you would rise for!" Surreal whispered in his ear. She pulled back and forced him to look into her eyes. She couldn't resist the urge to fiddle with his beard, while her other hand ran down his chest.

_For the love of the Pearl, woman, just shoot me_, Jack thought. _Bloody foul temptresses with their ways and their rum-stealing!_

His head swam. Normally these kind of situations came along when he felt safe, but no sooner had he looked in her eyes he saw a side to this lass that made him seriously uneasy. He didn't know whether it was the drink or the intoxicating fear that was making him feel faint. Jack tilted his head up, which was the only way he could move away from her face. He gripped her shoulders firmly as one would when you were about to tell a child something noteworthy.

"Enough of these fancies, dearie. I know considerably less about you than I would like..."

_Or considerably too much already... he mused silently._

"Do tell of your proposition and may'aps we can come to an arrangement afore I fetch me supplies."

Just as swiftly as Surreal had straddled Jack, she had moved away toward her cabin door. Even though she knew that if he had tried anything he would have regretted it, that still didn't stop her from feeling hurt that he hadn't tried. As soon as she'd put enough distance between them, she knew that her question would not go down too well, just as she also knew that she was unarmed and Jack still had his cutlass. She sighed, "I just want you to answer one question. I'm not looking for a right or wrong answer, I'm just curious."

Surreal couldn't help feeling scared, this was something she rarely did but she felt that Jack needed to know. She took a deep breath let it out and then asked.

"Who and why would someone hire me to assassinate you?" Even as she asked the question she felt the atmosphere in the cabin change. She readied herself for a fight. Unarmed or not she would not let herself lose.

******************************

Titan watched the cabin with interest. Even though he knew Surreal could give him a run for his money in a fight, armed or not, he still had to force himself to watch instead of crashing into her cabin. He had done what he'd promised; the crew were all on high alert and the _Kaelas_ was ready to sail given her command. Stubleg Morgan had also informed Titan that Blake was on the ship and that he watched Surreal's cabin as closely. Titan had decided that he'd leave the man alone as his full attention was on Surreal. He had to keep her safe.

As Titan watched, his mind flicked back to when he left with Surreal from the Dae La Mon. The one thing he promised was the one thing he was never sure he could keep, especially with Surreal's current employment. He knew that he would keep the promise to keep her safe as long as possible. The only problem with this was that physically she was safe, but he was getting more and more worried about her mental state. She was close to a breakdown from exhaustion but she wouldn't listen to him. Titan saw her move away from Jack and sensed a change in her. He readied himself in case he had to barge into her cabin. He knew that she had locked the door; just as sure as he knew that he could tear the bloody thing off its hinges if needed.

*****************************

It would have been impossible to say that Jack wasn't a little put out by the woman's confession. However, his fear and his wisdom often clashed together to calm him down.

So she was an assassin. That actually explained a lot. The very fact she was bothering to tell him was curious. Either she was testing him, or she was having second thoughts. Maybe she wanted to toy with him before she did her work...or find something out about him...maybe the person who'd hired her knew about certain valuables he possessed...maybe..._enough with the maybes!_

He sat up slowly in his seat, watching her.

"Those are two very interesting queries, lass. I'm not exactly one who follows the law of the good and honest folk so I'd wager countless things I've done might warrant a reason. As for who would hold such a grudge against me...well I only know of one...no, two...wait..."

He counted on his grubby, ringed fingers. Three...he stuck up another finger...four. Some time later, he'd run out of digits on his hands.

"On second thought, love, no idea. If your meaning is to why would someone hire you in particular for this very job...I'd 'ave to bank on your talent for ballistic skills, that is, your ability with that knife o' yours, and your self-confidence."

Surreal was a little shell-shocked. This wasn't what she expected to happen, but it had been funny to watch his eyes as he was trying to comprehend the fact that she told him this. She had to seriously fight the urge to laugh when he started to count out who wanted him dead, she did however allow herself a smile.

"Sugar, flattery will get you nowhere. I'm more shocked that you have so many people that want you dead," she replied smugly.

_Well_, she thought, _this doesn't help me in the slightest_. _I need to know who hired me_.

"I'll answer the question I see in your eyes. The reason I want to know is that I never carry out a kill without knowing why. So we have a little problem don't we? Looks like you're coming with us to Port Royal. While we're heading there we'll go through everyone you know that would hold such a grudge that they would hire an assassin who charges ten thousand galleons per kill!" As she said this Surreal watched Jack to see if he might try something.

"Titan! Set sail for Port Royal!" Surreal shouted, even though she knew that Titan would be close by. She had felt the need to shout as it removed some of her anger. "Now, sugar, let's get started!" Surreal headed round to the back of her desk. Once seated she gave Jack a queried look, and waited for him to begin.


	8. A Letter

**Chapter VIII: A Letter**

The jungle was dense and Mr Redbloom felt that if he were to succeed in his plans, and ally with this captain (piraty) fellow, he would have to make haste. Within two hours he was lost again. He groaned at himself and scratched his beard..._I'm in quite a mess,_ he thought, despairing over his loss of bearings....

Where is that bloody hole now!" he said dancing and twirling his cane. After a dance or two he tripped and fell, and Mr Albannon was lost (alas not for good) down a pit in the ground, where he deftly sprained his ankle.

"Here it is," he exclaimed. "Damn and blast my incompetence!" He puzzled awhile before searching the cavern, angry at himself and his lateness of arrival.... _Hey presto, one treasure map....It is about time I reclaimed my prize_.

With that, Mr Albannon Redbloom clambered out of the hole, tending a bruise atop his head. He looked to the east. He looked to the west. He forgot the north and observed the south.

"Now to find my servant and return to Jack Staroh and his fine ship haha..."

He wandered further in and further out through forest and jungle. He would find his man... he always lived in this forest...

His plan was coming to fruit, though a little slower than he intended.

"To the Shack!" he cried, "then back to Tortuga!"

Thus he wandered away from his hole (nearly falling again I might add) in search of his mysterious shack...

***********************************************************

Was it strange, Elizabeth thought to herself, that the first thing she did notice was the single letter waiting for her in front of her door? Perhaps it was. When she awoke, she didn't even call for a maid to help her dress (not that she had ever enjoyed that particular morning ritual; it never failed to make her feel like a child. Besides, it didn't seem to even be morning yet). Her eyes were drawn to that letter, and it was all she could do not to bolt out of bed, and instead walk over calmly and pick it up.

By gods...it even smelled like Will. For a moment, she simply held it in her hands, relishing in the fact that she had something that reminded her so much of him so close to her. What was it? A love letter, perhaps? Well, even though she was feeling quite capable of dressing herself, she felt like a small child anyway; a giddy little girl, even.

She made haste in opening the blatantly unofficial letter, her smile growing when she walked back and sat upon the edge of her bed. The envelope in one hand, the letter was open in the other, and her eyes quickly went back to forth as she read it.

_My darling Elizabeth,_

_I am sorry I could not wake you and take the time to tell you in person but I am afraid that a friend's life may be in danger. Our friend. Should anyone else read this letter besides you, I cannot name 'our friend' lest it put you into trouble. All I may say is that I plan to leave Port Royal tonight in the hope of helping our friend._

_I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me for leaving you behind at this time._

_"Savvy"_

_Yours always,  
Will_

Her smile faded.

Moments ago, she had been happy and even giddy, and now...she felt positively sick. With worry, she assumed. Without even realizing it, the envelope and letter fell from her hands, her eyes drawn straightforward and her expression one of complete horror.

"Oh no..." she could barely force herself to say in a choked whisper. "Will...Jack, what have you gotten into _this _time?" There was a fair amount of anger in her voice when she spoke Jack's name, laced also with a familiar tone of exasperation.

It was still dark out, she noticed when she finally allowed herself to look about her darkened room. Maybe...just maybe...he wasn't gone yet?  
There was only one way to find out. There was no time for fancy dressing, she knew. A cloak...she could find a cloak, and throw it over herself. Indecent it would be to go traipsing around in her nightclothes, but she didn't care. A cloak was found, and she was gone only moments later, slipping out of the door to her room and creeping throughout her home as quietly as a mouse. No one was up and about, making her 'escape', as it seemed, rather easy. In no time at all, she was truly gone, uncaring of being silent and running for all she was worth through the front gates and down the beaten road towards the docks.

****************************************************************

_What in the hell is Surreal playing at_, Titan thought furiously as he called the crew to make ready the ship. There was something going on but he knew that with nothing short of holding a knife to her throat would he find out. That is, if she felt the least bit intimidated by him. Titan sighed. She'd send him to an early grave at her rate.

Question after question rose in his mind as he tried to think of a reasonable explanation. Then he remembered that Surreal never did anything that made sense to anybody else but her. He felt a little more relaxed as he thought this. She also had never endangered the crew. _That is unless you count the angry mob back at France_, _but she didn't know that would happen_. Maybe saying that she'd never _intentionally_ endanger the crew would be a more sensible thing to say.

Well, he'd get them to Port Royal. The rest was up to her!

********************************

At the sudden mood swing of his captor, Jack had felt it necessary to get up from his seat. He backed off as he spoke, holding up his hands as though to pacify her.

"Er...miss, do you really think it would be that wise to approach one of the King's most guarded colonies with the attitude of guns-a-blazing? Now if I was you, which I'm not, and I don't insult you in the manner of which I say this to you, but I _really_ wouldn't want to draw too much attention to myself over there. They don't 'ave much of a soft spot for our types, savvy?"

He half-glared at her, a little more of his fighting spirit showing as he stood with the desk between them.

Surreal glanced up at Jack and smiled. "Sit down Mr Sparrow, I'm not going to go into Port Royal 'guns-a-blazing' as you put it. I've got unfinished business there and, it seems, so have you. Once we arrive at Port Royal go about your business. We're just your mode of transport. Also to the matter of names, that's for me to handle alone. It is my business, not yours, well… unless you wish to accompany me to find out who wants you dead? The choice is yours. My dear Captain, you're a guest on this ship, not a prisoner, but if you do anything to change that, you'll pay. Just to make that clear. Now please, sit down and finish your rum while we start on the list of names."

Surreal just sat there and waited. She could understand Jack's concern even though it was unnecessary.

_Well_, she thought, _that's curious_. _I wonder why he's got so touchy all of a sudden. I get that I have to make him feel comfortable and whatnot, though I'm not sure where I can place him on the ship. Titan's going to be upset and annoyed with me as it is without having him trying to make Jack slip up. Well, let's see what his decision is before I think about things like that…_

Now she looked at Jack, waiting for a reply.

Jack put his hands on his hips in a sulky manner but did a sort of backwards nod...that is to say he nodded in agreement but with a haughty way of tilting his head up. This was the closest he could get to feeling more than a little taller than this fickle woman.

"Fine," he said, a bit tetchily. "But I think I've had more'n enough rum for the time being. If it's loosening my tongue you're after, then I'd be more amiable if food were on offer, aye? And I'd like me pistol back, too. With what little choice I 'ave about going on your trip, I'd like to defend meself from people who want my 'ead in a noose." He narrowed his eyes, which just made him look more feminine and childish.

"Done! Wait here while I tend to your requests." Surreal left the cabin without giving Jack a chance to reply. Once out the door, she told Stubleg Morgan to inform the chef to bring up a large meal. She then turned her attention to Titan. "Could you bring his pistol? No arguments! I don't mean to be harsh, but I know that face all too well. Trust me, please, Titan." Surreal did manage to smile as she spoke, even though she was totally exhausted. She made her way back into her cabin and sat back behind her desk.

A few minutes passed then Titan and some of the crew came in with their meal and Jack's gun. These were left on the large table that stood at the side of the room.

"Dig in Mr Sparrow!" The chef motioned to the table as he made his way out of the room.

Surreal just sat behind her desk as she didn't feel very hungry. _God I must be tired_, she thought as she waited for Jack to stuff himself.

Restless, Jack perched on the side of the desk rather than sitting in a chair. He poked around at various comestibles, juggled a few apples to test their ripeness and then settled for pulling off a leg from a cold chicken. As was habit he sniffed it first before tucking in.

"Ta," he said, not bothering to wait until he'd swallowed what he was chewing. He stuffed his pistol back into its holster before washing down his meal with a little more rum. He glanced up at Surreal. "What'sa matter? All this interrogating ruined yer appetite?" he smirked.

Surreal snapped to attention at his last comment, struggling to contain her anger.

"Sugar, that wasn't an interrogation. If you would like one I'd be more than happy to oblige!" she'd retorted before she could stop herself. Her voice had held such venom that she wouldn't have been surprised if he pointed his pistol at her. "Finish your meal, then Titan will show you to a bunk. Come back here tomorrow. This will give you some time to think of someone who has the money and desire to have you killed." At this, Surreal left into the adjoining room.

_Stupid, bigheaded man_, she thought as she angrily paced the room. _If he wants a bloody interrogation I should have given it him._ _Titan can deal with him_. _Argh. Men_! She stopped pacing then removed Kaetien from her cabinet. Unsheathing the blade, she started to wipe it clean. This was one thing that always calmed her, especially when she thought of what she could do to the two men nearby that were doing her head in.

_Well_, Titan thought as he had listened to the scene unfold. _Jack seems to be able to get her back up_. _That's very interesting…I thought I was the only person who could do that._ _Hmm, I wonder what that means_. He stood by the cabin door waiting for Jack to finish his meal so he could get him a bunk.

Titan couldn't help but feel a little bit worried. He feared that Surreal would do something stupid or that Jack might try something now that she had left for her bedroom. Though he had to admit that her retort to Jack had confirmed his suspicions, as she seemed angry as well as hurt. This only normally happened when someone she cared about upset her, but then she had had a few trying days. _It could just be exhaustion, maybe I should ask her._ Well one thing was for certain: this trip was going to be eventful after watching these two.


	9. Restless

**Chapter IX: Restless**

Jack Sparrow raised his eyebrow as Ms SaDiablo had stormed out of the cabin, leaving him to his food.

What had he said?

He grinned a little to himself. Then his eyes narrowed. He saw the shadow of Titan just outside the door and knew he didn't have much time. Setting down a half-eaten banana, he crept over to the cabin's back window and levered up the latch. He swung the window wide on its hinges and clambered onto the ledge. Jack was on the verge of jumping when he saw the crests of white foaming seas below him. He'd gotten so used to a life on the ocean, he hadn't noticed they'd started moving and were now well out of Tortuga. His knuckles whitened as he gripped onto the sides of the window, trying not to fall out.

"Oh bugger."

Titan just stood back and left Jack to try and escape. He knew that they were pretty far from land, so he didn't really care if he tried to escape. He wouldn't get very far. He strode into the room and smiled at Jack.

"Well Mr Sparrow, while you're just hanging around, let's get something straight. I don't want you here. You do anything to upset Surreal; you'll be walking the plank. Now that I've got that clear would you like a hand?" Titan asked. He made no attempt to move while he waited for Jack to reply.

Almost slipping at the sound of Titan's voice, Jack looked over his shoulder. "Nah you're all right, son. I can manage." He very nearly regretted being so stubborn as he teetered forward and had to windmill with his arms so hard that he fell back into the cabin and landed on his back.

"Ow." He picked himself up and dusted himself off. "If you don't want me here, mate, why don't you tell your darling ol' sister whatsisface to put me back in Tortuga? The feeling's mutual. I'd rather I'd not set eyes on your little tugboat in the first place. But seeing as you know and I know that I ain't going anywhere any time soon, I suggest you learn to square with me before you put everyone in a bad mood."

He strode to the doorway and stopped beside the young man." Oh and I wouldn't talk of dropping me in the sea just yet." He smirked in Titan's scowling face. "Ain't you 'eard the stories of Captain Jack Sparrow?" He grinned and swaggered out on deck.

"No I haven't. Why don't you tell me some, Captain?" Titan replied cautiously. He knew that having some background on the man in front of him could seriously help Surreal.

Titan walked past Jack, indicating for him to follow. He made his way to where the bunks were. Even though he didn't like Jack that much he decided that it would be best if he stayed in Titan's cabin at the far end of the ship, underneath Surreal's. "Here's where you'll be staying till we get to Port Royal. Also just to set you straight I personally ain't got nothing against ya. So let's hear some of these stories then." Titan gave Jack a friendly smile, while he indicated to the bed on the opposite side of his cabin.

Jack grinned and danced over to his bunk where he proceeded to lie, arms folded behind his head. "I'm surprised you ain't heard of 'em, mate. But then, you _are_ wearing rather odd attire so I'll assume it's on account of your being foreign and therefore faraway from our cultured climes, aye? One of the more recent tales comes from...oh, 'bout three months ago. A story that'd make you wet your nappy." He winked at Titan, but seeing that the lad wasn't fond of friendly insults, Jack carried on. "You ever heard of the dead walking the Earth, mate? Of ancient curses rising from the depths in the form of long lost treasure, eh? Only to vanish once more to the locker never to be found again?"

Titan struggled to hide his loathing for the man, but decided that being nice to the idiot in the opposite bed would suit him better. "No, Jack, I can't say that I have. Let's hear this tale of yours," he replied as he lay down on his own bunk.

Titan stared up at the ceiling while thinking: _Stupid bloody pirate. What in the hell are you playing at, Surreal? What is it about this man that has you so confused?_ Titan felt a small rush of envy. Though he never loved his sister as more than a sister he couldn't help hating any man that intrigued her. Maybe that was the older brother in him. He decided that maybe sitting up would be better; then he could concentrate on what Jack had to say. He sat there and listened to Jack tell his story.

***********************************************************

After many trials and misfortunes, our friend Mr Redbloom arrived at a shack that had become so familiar to him before his five-year stint on a desert island. It was poorly built and smelt strongly of native cooking...something Albannon had come to love over time....

_I wonder..._

He peeked his head round the door of the conical wooden house, and began to display a smile, for in front of him stood his old friend and family retainer (at least Albannon called him as thus): Oaxacoco.

_He looks a little weathered..._

As if alive for the first time Mr Redbloom shouted, "Oxo!", which he liked to call him for short. "It's Mr Albannon Redbloom! I'm back, sir, I'm back! Are you ready to begin the plan?"

Five years he had had a break from this irritating loud man, and now he was back...

Oaxacoco could not deny his usefulness, but he himself felt old and tired, and the excitable plans they had laid down in his fifties just made him tired. Besides, he was sure there was no point in their ideas any more. Had not the age of pirates begun to come to a close? After a while, he turned and looked maleficiently at Mr Redbloom.

"I am surrrprised to see..."(puzzled over forgotten word)... "You, Mr Abandon Redloom."

In a flutter of joy and relief, Mr Albannon Redbloom fell upon his old friend, and after slapping him affectionately on the cheek he re-gathered his mind to say: "It is a fine pleasure to see you sir, I cannot say." For a moment he paused. "I must start our old works up again my old friend. Curse it sir, I will not be poor...even if you want to be! And I know you don't." He thrust his cane in Oaxacoco's face and exclaimed: "Well Oxo! What do you say? Are you ready for the old canoe adventure!"

Sometimes this man made Oaxacoco tired, but something still drew them together. He sighed deeply. He wasn't sure of the English anymore.

"Yoo ar kwite a man mih old friend," he bumbled. "We ne-ad a plaen. Aye weel pleh de drum to sellebrate." And so it was the old man played his drums loud, ignoring whether his visitor liked them or not. Oaxacoco was in a good mood...he could feel his age leaving him and his ambition return.

Albannon hated Oaxacoco's drums, and not just general dislike. They grated upon his very soul, leaving him mentally incapable. After mumbling a few nothings and curses under his breath he raised his stature and his voice:

"Oxo! Oxo, Oxmorocco! Quiet now! The plan is as before...we retrieve the treasure and I reclaim my glorious prize. Oh yes I have found our third man and he seems persuadable...now not even the door will confound us. Yes, this man has a ship, a willingness for treasure. His name is Staroh, Captain Jack Staroh. Odd name for a pirate I know...well anyway...hmmm…we must get going on this. I must return to Tortuga and find this man Jack, persuade him onto our journey and head to our goal. You must go to the Isle of the Rum-Runners. Steal some rum for our friend; he likes it, and find the chest with the amulet, wherever you hid it, and meet us at the City itself." He swiftly rose from his seat, gave Oaxacoco a firm pat on the back, turned, straightened his hat and bid the old Witch-doctor farewell.

_Peace and quiet...broken by rip-roaring adventure…_

Oaxacoco was hardly able to breathe or finish his newest and greatest drum solo before Redbloom shouted commands and bolted from the hut. He sighed to himself, rapped out a new tune, and gave himself a breather.

_To the canoe I suppose. It's good to have some life back in me...best take a fishing spear…_

And so the old priest cracked his bones and waddled out of the hut. He pulled the vines off his canoe, performed a quick ritual and planted the boat in the water.

_Perhaps I shall never die._

He jumped in the boat and cast off into the unknown seas.

_The stars and Yactecuhtli will get me there...I hope._

_********************************************************************_

Captain Sparrow drawled through the story of 'The Curse of the Black Pearl', half-hoping Titan would fall asleep.

Of course he amended it a bit...

Jack had naturally arrived in Port Royal astride a bottle-nosed dolphin and after an epic battle with a young blacksmith named Turner, where the boy surrendered, he had agreed to help save the lad's lady in return for aid in taking back his _Pearl_. Armed with the best crew a pirate could hope for, they set off in a commodore's ship - the _Interceptor_, no less - for the Isla de Muerta. He single-handedly rescued the girl and let her escape in the _Interceptor_ with Mr Turner, bravely sacrificing himself to Barbossa's immortal skeleton crew.

Fortunately, his talent for negotiation kept him alive and even though the _Interceptor_ was lost and he was once more marooned on an island, Jack simply called up a company of sea turtles and sped out to sea, carrying the bonny lass in his arms. There he came across the _HMS Dauntless_ and got passage back to the Isla de Muerta where he cunningly tricked the crew to leave him alone with Barbossa and Mr Turner. Captain Jack Sparrow lifted the curse, slew Barbossa, graciously gave up the girl despite her obvious affections for him and escaped the hangman's noose like a slippery fish in a dozy hand.

"What say you to that, eh?" Sparrow asked when he'd finally finished.

Noisily, Blake entered the cabin, and grinned with delight on realising he'd found the right door.

"Noson da, you two, good eve. Sorry to barge into yer boat again, mister Titan - occupational hazard. Sure you noticed me though, watchful eye like yours, mister Titan. Now, am I missing some storytelling? A very favourite occupation of mine. I very much hope I've not missed too much, though I'm sure you could start again, just for me."

Having paid attention to the earlier conversations over this man - SaDiablo's quarry, he assumed - he'd picked up a name, and decided to turn deceit in his favour.

"You're Captain Jack Sparra, aincha? Very great pleasure, sir. I've heard many a tale of your bold and piratical antics, and nothing would give me greater pleasure than to hear them from your very lips. Maybe one day my singing voice or my puppet show could present them to whole new audiences, in as true a form as only you could communicate, O captain my captain."

At the arrival of this comical little man, Jack allowed a chuckle. "Indeed I am the very same, mate. Glad I can entertain." He looked slyly over at Titan. "See, 'e knows what I'm talkin' about!" he said to the sulky lad, gesturing to Blake. He paused to frown in bafflement and looked back at the musician. "Oo are you, anyhow? And what's a nosongdar when it's at 'ome?" He wrinkled his nose. "You're not French are you?"

"Me? Why, I'm Gibreel P Blake, at your service, Captain. British, since you ask, with a plateful of Welsh thrown in on me granny's side. Out here to tell tales and seek me fortune in ways legitimate and otherwise."

Blake leant forward and kissed Jack's jewelled hand.

"An honour to speak for ya, sir."

This Captain Jack Sparrow seemed a reasonable man with tales to tell, and Blake had little doubt that his own pretence at knowing this man's tales would soon be turned to fact.

"Whether that assassin kills you, or t'other way round, captain, it'll sure enough be a thrill. I'm gonna say I think the skills and the secret weapons will be on her side, but the moxie and experience are all yours. Evenly matched, sir, but out of the two of you, you dress the better."

At Blake's last comment Titan struggled not to laugh. _I'd best not tell Surreal that little bit of information,_ Titan thought sourly. He intended to correct him on the matter of Surreal's experience, but at this moment in time he wanted to listen to what Blake had to say about Jack.

"Well, Mr Blake, how about you fill us in on the stories that you know about Jack here, as I'm fascinated to find out about him. As Mr Sparrow rightly commented earlier, I am foreign to these waters." He smiled and gestured for Blake to start.

Unable to dislike the eloquent little chap, Jack beamed with pride at the mention of his garments, especially when elevated above Surreal's. Either the man had a deathwish or he was quite the most unabashed being he'd ever encountered. Eager to hear of his own apparent exploits, which he would whole-heartedly back up if they were spectacular enough, Jack sat up and waited for Blake to speak. As he did, he examined the hand that had been enamoured, just in case any of his rings were missing. One could never be too careful.

Blake ummed and ahhed. This was not something he had anticipated. Still, thinking on your feet was always a lively activity, he reminded himself. However many stories he'd made up in his time to entertain children or save his own skin, Jack was clearly a pirate captain who'd kept himself busy. Some general flattery and tales of derring-do that might apply to any pirate would probably please him well.

"Well, of course," began Blake, "you would tell them better, and I don't doubt they've been a little garbled in the telling, but - I tell you what - I'll sing you what I remember of the ballad of Captain Jack Sparrow. I'm sure you've heard it before," he lied, "but here we go anyhow."  
In a swish movement, he whipped out his accordion and began a sturdy oom-pah beat.

"Sing we the ballad of captain Jack Sparrow,  
Here today and gone tomarrow --"

This, he thought, was going to be quite a feat of improvisational rhyme.

"The finest captain on our seas,  
A dashing, well-dressed pirate! He's  
The boldest from Bonaire to Aruba  
The Caribbean fears his name,  
For hunting treasure is his game  
Be it in Port Royal or 'neath Tortuga"

_Fie_, he thought, _should have rhymed Tortuga with Beluga. But how could it have been done?_

"Sing we a song of Captain Jack Sparrow  
His bounties much, his escapes narrow"

_Yes, that's a bit better._

"He once dispatchèd fifty men  
who tried to take his treasure, then  
He headed back to guard his precious pearl --"

Blake was certain he'd overheard some mention of a pearl from behind the closed door.

"But even without copious loot,  
The landfolk know this man's repute  
They love and fear him, be they man or girl."

_Well, this could be going much worse._

"Sing we an ode to that Captain Jack Sparrow  
Sharp as a needle and swift as an arrow  
And every boat that you ride on  
Will tale the tale of Weatherby Swann  
And how he fears bold Jack, that cunning pirate  
For in his capacity gubernatorial  
Fear's Jack, whose fighting's quite finely raptorial  
And whose costume is perfect to the smallest eyelet.  
Sing we a paean to captain Jack Sparrow  
With daring and wit running right through his marrow --"

With a thought to how angry old Surreal might react to being awoken by such a boisterous noise of music, Blake stopped. He was content, however. Happy in fact, for having sung for as long as that on the subject, with minimal hesitation or repetition, he felt as if he knew this strange captain, as if he couldn't have deviated too wildly from the truth.

"Well, you understand it goes on and suchlike. I trust your tales have not been too far stretched out of shape by repeated telling, like those Chinese whisperers they tell me about. Either way, I'm sure you'd give us a truer rendition of your tales, though, esteemed captain Sparrah. How about it?"

Jack laughed out loud and applauded boisterously. "Never a truer word said, mate. I may 'ave the talents with which to perform said admirable duties, but you I would prize currently above any other to be able to describe my life with its ups and downs better'n possible. "As for more stories, I'd not mind so much, only I think young grumpy guts 'ere might get 'is nightshirt in a twist." He tilted his head towards the young man on the opposite bunk. "Failing that, I compliment your peculiar instrument, both voice and squeezy box thingy."

"Why, ta muchly captain sir. Most aren't so kind. I tell you, if I may ever be of assistance to you in whatever capacity, don't 'esitate to call on my services. I tell you the truth, I'm always thankful for a crust of bread and a hammock for the night, two things I've not yet been granted by the lady captainette of this ship, though it's a little something I'm working on, if you don't stab 'er to death when the inevitable tussle comes."

Titan just sat still while he listened to the exchange of comments between the two men.

_That song didn't help much_, he thought.

"Let's hear some of these stories then, Mr Sparrow, and I promise not to get my nightshirt in a twist," Titan spoke with a hint of suppressed anger and sarcasm, and then he addressed Mr Blake with a friendly smile. "As for the song, Mr Blake, it was very catchy. Unlike my sister I tend to like the accordion. Would you grace us with another song?"

"In time, you can be sure of it, but for now, well, I'm very eager to hear the good captain speak."

_Confound these interested people_, Jack was beginning to think. Usually people told his stories for him. He'd only had to make up a few at the beginning and the rumours took it from there. Pretty soon he'd not had to tell a particularly long falsehood for ages. People just saw him walk past in the street and made up a saga. He looked up at the underside of the top bunk, pretending to recall some distant memory when in reality his mind buzzed to spin out a novelty. Well...surprisingly, most of it was true.

"I'm not really the sort to brag about my own achievements," he lied. "But I've had many occasions where to relieve myself of the attentions of unwanteds, I 'ave 'ad to put myself under a little bit of a disguise. "There was one time, in Spain I think it was, few years back. Was being chased by some royal flunkeys. Cornered me off in a marketplace, only place left to go was over a wall at the end of an alley. Now, be'ind that wall was no other than a convent...so I couldn't very well be in there looking like what you see 'ere. So what I did was, I dressed meself up as a nun. I 'id me face with a veil, nipped on a pair o' gloves and Bob's your sibling, they turned the place inside out lookin' fer me and I'll be buggered if they found so much as a beard whisker.

"Got away with 'alf the queen's fortune 'idden under me skirts."

He stretched and sighed as though tired of the tedious simplicity of his feats.

"Very neatly done, if I do say so, sir. Seems you're as crafty as I've often heard. So," Blake turned to Titan, "what do _you_ do that might deserve to be immortalised in song and story?"

"Well, nothing that I would like to publicize. As you might understand, my sister is an assassin. We do not share information lightly if at all. I'm sorry I can't be of more service," Titan replied. "Any other stories you'd care to tell, Blake, or do you know only the one?"


	10. Gambles With Wolves

**Chapter X: Gambles With Wolves**

Now that evening had swept the land, a youth slipped into the tavern at Tortuga, made a signal to a group of men in a discreet section of the bar and made way towards them. Kestrel, her long hair stuffed mercilessly into a buccaneer's hat; wearing a large trenchcoat that flattened out her figure; sat amongst the men dealing out cards and rolling dice.

"Back again, lad?" one of the elders said. "Weren't so fortunate last night, you sure you be wanting to risk your wealth today as well?"

The girl in disguise nodded.

"Changes in the winds are a good sign," she answered huskily. "I'll go in for the next deal."

A couple of the other seedier players sniggered, believing themselves to have found another sap to gain profit from. But the winds were changing for them too. Kestrel was learning.

Three hours after reaching Tortuga found Crystal without her fellow shipmate, swigging back her sixth mug of ale. She looked about the room in search of the next victim that would meet with her. Her attention was caught as a young figure entered the tavern. _Maybe that one will do..._ she thought a moment. She watched, slightly intrigued as this figure walked over to a group of men who appeared to be playing a card game and sat down with them.

_Hmmm...I haven't played a good game of cards in a while..._ she thought as she rose from her seat. Her mug of ale resting gently in her hand, she made her way over to the table.

"Well my, my, my...what do we have here?" she asked, her voice almost a purr as she leaned seductively on the shoulder of a large pirate.

"Would anyone mind if a little lady like myself played?" As if to emphasize her point, Crystal reached into her shirt and pulled a coin sack from the depths of her cleavage. It jingled merrily as she gently swung it back and forth. "So what do y'all say?" she asked, casting a wink to the young man who had just joined the group, but as she looked closer, Crystal was startled slightly.

That was no young man...that was a woman.

Kestrel's eyes glimmered, knowing that a fellow woman had recognised her for what she was. This stranger was attempting something she hadn't tried for years. To play as herself. A few of the men sniggered at Crystal's question. Others went quiet at the sight of the jangling purse. As though to settle the matter, Kestrel put on her best male voice and said: "I doubt it would do any harm to let the lady play. That is, if she can handle the rules, the speed...and the drink."

Crystal laughed lightly as she spilled a few gold coins into her hand, and then stuffed the purse back into her shirt as she took a seat. She smirked around at the crowd, grabbing the hat off of the pirate next to her and gently placing in on her head.

"Well kittens, speed and drink are my specialties," she said with a grin as she placed her coins in neat piles in front of her. "Though in my honest and humble opinion...rules are made to be broken."

Picking up one of the shiny pieces of metal, she placed it in the middle of the table. Once again her eyes scanned the group.

"So...are any of you _boys_ **man **enough to take on a woman?"

Watching as the dealer tentatively placed cards around the table for who wanted to be in, Kestrel nodded when a facedown card was offered.  
She held the card close to her chest, glancing briefly at it. Then she looked at Crystal.

"We're playin' _BlackSparrow_. Most places in the world it's your average Blackjack, but for commonly known reasons we altered the name a little. It's bad luck to call it by its usual name around these parts, at least during the game."

Asked what she would do after her first card, she did the only logical thing to do when you only have one starting card.

"Twist," she said to the dealer, and received her card.

_Five, and an eight..._

Before the next person in line could call on what they would do next, Kestrel hissed in a sudden pain. Her cards scattered as she clutched her hand. A few of the players gawped at her, not simply because of her obvious suffering but the fact the 'young man' had made a very girlish sound. One reached out and snatched off her hat before she could do anything.

"He's a GIRL!" he roared with laughter. Then he caught sight of one of the other players. The other man was trembling. "Wot you lookin' so funny about?"

The frightened pirate gibbered and pointed at Kestrel's hand. In its centre was a dirty black circle.

Kestrel gasped, snatched her hat, and bolted for the door.

Mr Redbloom burst into the tavern with a frightful noise, bashing the door into an old sailor's face and tripping up a fleeing 'young man' as he passed. He had run all the way from Oaxacoco's hut and was tired, desperate and panicked. He stumbled forward into the bar giving no heed to the other patrons or workers. He bumped a few as he searched the tavern head to toe. After finding no success he resorted to communication:

"Ladies, gentlemen and undesirables," he shouted, waving his cane aloft. "I am looking for a man. Goes by the name of Jack Staroh. He's a captain, I think....Well!?"

From the tavern floor, Kestrel blinked stars from her eyes and looked up at the eccentric that had laid her flat. Despite the slight problem of several occupants in the bar knowing her gender as well as her ailment, she frowned at Redbloom's question.

"Don't you mean _Sparrow_?" she asked.

Albannon heard a small squeak from behind him. He turned and faced the young fellow whom he had struck only to find it was no fellow at all.

"What...hmmm...Sparrow? Maybe... it makes little difference. Staroh, Sorrow, Sparrow - all the same to me!" he blundered before grabbing a lit cigar off a nearby patron. "Well, young lady, have you see the lad then...hmmm?"

After picking herself and her hat up from the floor, Kestrel cringed at the man's use of volume. "Maybe," she answered. "I dunno. One pirate's as foul as another in my books. Might've seen him around though. God knows I've 'eard of him but I wouldn't be sure of being able to discern him from another. Unless you can describe him to me." She cast a sidelong glance at the mark on her palm as though she needed to be sure if it was still there.

Mr Redbloom puffed upon his cigar, expelling it in the girl's face. He chuckled to himself. _What an odd lady._

"It is rare I meet a woman dressed as a man...it's an odd thing." He looked deeply at her. She had a good hat. _I have an idea_. He leant in close tapped her hat and said: "Would you like to help me, my lady...to find this Jack? There would be treasure... and a part of something special. I need a crew and I don't want the usual kind of men...as a cross-dresser you would fit in well."

He poked her sharply with his cane, flicking ash upon her coat. _She's a quiet sort...but then again I hate talkies...those babbling imbeciles!_ He pulled a ridiculous gurn and tugged his beard in a threatening manner, hoping to impress or terrify the girl. Alas for our poor friend he fell painfully upon the floor catching a splinter in his ear.

"Aaaarg!"

He rubbed his ear for a moment, and then remembered what he was doing and hoped the girl had not stopped listening. He lifted himself and extracted the large wooden needle from his poor ear. He looked straight at the girl, tears of pain running down his cheeks and he said: "Well young lady, what do you make of it...hmmm? Will you join me? I heartily recommend that you do. I am a man beyond comparison. Most intelligent, brilliant too."

Kestrel scowled at the strange man. "Contrary to your beliefs, dressing up as a man ain't something I do out of pleasure but more out of necessity. Mostly I despise your kind, despite the irritating manner in which I can be drawn to them, and I only dress likewise to be treated as equal."

She gritted her teeth at the sight of his tears. It was annoyingly pitiable.

"If I weren't in a hurry to get out of this dratted pirate town, should you be able to provide me with a better cause with better pay than my usual job, I'd 'ave half a mind to walk out this moment. I'll have no funny business and I want to know your intentions. If I agree, I'll go take a long leave from the Rose and pack my bags. I'd also be obliged if you'd 'elp me with a problem of me own too."

She had a peculiar way of talking. It was mostly a common tongue but with a few more eloquent words, and the odd bit of French-like intonation thrown in.

Initially aghast at the girl's plucky response, Mr Redbloom was struck silent for a moment. But alas the peace was not to last long. Albannon had leant on a table to take in the hearty reply and had caught himself another splinter (what a surprise). _Curses!_ he thought before screaming aloud. He was not sure what the girl thought of him; though little did he care...he needed her alliance and quick. He retrieved his cigar, which had propelled to the floor in the commotion, slapped it into his mouth...and looked upon the lady.

"Hmm, well, I suppose so. Though I did not wish to cast offence. I was merely pointing out that your current attire and situation makes you far more worthy a person than the rest of this dreary rabble, within or without the bar...do you follow? I'm sure I can help you, though I am currently engaged in finding this Smarrow fellow, then I need to find my treasure…but I am sure we can fit in your requirements. This is all rather complex. Oh, and I hope you are not averted to stealing a ship. This Jack fellow has left me in the lurch a little...and he was such a nice man. I am sure we'll find him. So what do you say young lady...are you in?"

Kestrel shrugged.

"I'd say it's probably expected of a pirate to take a ship from another pirate. I shall meet you at the docks, in X days, after I've dealt with my affairs."

She tipped her hat at him and exited the tavern, not quite knowing what had made her agree to this arrangement.

Mr Albannon was slyly pleased with the girl's response. It was a long while since he had been accused of being a pirate. Bandit or cad maybe...but pirate! His life had taken an exciting turn. He smiled gleefully to himself. Things were looking up - he just wished he hadn't planned such an unfortunate job for such an agreeable young lady. Maybe he would sort something out, perhaps someone else slimmer and more nimble could be found.

_I would benefit from a crew...perhaps two is enough?_ He sincerely hoped Oxo hadn't fallen into any trouble. He had seen a spark of excitement in this Jack fellow and wanted to give him something for his troubles (besides the treasure at the end). He knew, as Oaxacoco did, that the natives around the city would perhaps not open the doors and welcome them with open arms, especially when the very prize he sought was now an object of their fanatical worship. _Ah well,_ he thought. _Natives are Oxo's job. _He looked gently around, observing the common muck dancing and shouting around the bar. _Do they really have nothing better to do?_ He chuckled and crossed to the bar, ordered a bottle of rum and bought a box of cigars off the man in the corner.  
As he left he took one last look at the bar.

_Goodbye forever…_

But somehow he knew he would be driven back to this dreary rat-hole.

* * *

**A/N: **'X days'? Did I really write that? Severe apologies for my bad creation of Kestrel. You may notice that her accent and mannerisms change at least four times throughout Sparrow's Folly. In a vain attempt to stop her being so dull or like every other girl in the RPG she exploded into too much.


	11. Where Be Jack? Part 1

**Chapter XI: Where Be Jack? (Part 1)**

"Me?" enquired Blake. "Oh, I know many stories. Allow me to tell you both a one of them."

And with that, he hauled the large pack from within his coat, and unfolded it into an impressively large puppet show.

"If you'll lend me your attention, I shall tell, in full dimensions and colours, the story of the Tricorne of Wisdom. A tale of woe, a tale of a cursed hat, not unlike my own."

And so began the show. Behind the folds of the puppet show, Blake blew a brief fanfare though a small bugle, pocketing it again, and exclaimed "The Tricorne of Ontology, the first instalment. A true tale of seafaring and danger."

The curtains of the small puppet-stage opened above his head, and two ragged hand-puppets, furled from scraps of material and driftwood, entered the fore to tell their tale. The two were named Barnabas Fire (a pirate of the old times), and an ancient Captain Noah, set at loggerheads, but set in their course to pursue an ancient three-pointed hat and restore knowledge once more to the world. The tale went on, with further characters being added to the mix, a seemingly unrelated scene wherein the Punch and Judy's traditional string-of-sausages puppet had adventures of its own in first-century Jerusalem, and occasional (but concise) bursts into song for each of the characters which, to his credit, Blake made every effort to keep to the players' individual voices and accents.

It ended on a cliff-hanger, of course, with Barnabas Fire puppet on the cusp of being swallowed by a cursed wave reputedly possessed by the devil himself (the wave puppet was made of the wood of a ship that crashed, claiming the lives of all on-board, claimed Blake, in a narratorial aside), Captain Noah stood in its path, and the curtains closed. With a closing fanfare, Blake emerged, sweating profusely, and assured the two viewers that this was not where the tale ended, and that perhaps some day they might see the second instalment.

"I hope it brought you as much pleasure and thrill as it gave me, me hearties," he growled exhausted, as he took down the show's frame and fabrics. "Can I please have some small measure of grog?"

Jack quite simply gawped. He wasn't usually bothered with trifling entertainment, but of this kind he'd never been a witness. He felt like a child the first time it's given a toy that makes it feel (in a pleasant way of course) that it's just gone off and shot a hole in the back of it's head. More uncomfortably, the infamous Sparrow was also feeling a certain...what was probably copyrighted by a certain future author that rhymes with Verry Smatchett...as _réja vu_. He'd had this sense at the point where the hapless Captain Noah had been facing the cursed wave. _Réja vu_ being the feeling of: This is going to be happening again; most probably to me. For the first time, he wished there was a very feminine woman on board that he may have wronged just so he could have the slap he may or may not have deserved but certainly required.

"Felicitous commendations, Mr Blake. I 'ave a notion your stories will be remembered throughout history...though perhaps altered somewhat as listeners are wanton to do. May'aps hats will change their size and shape in the future? Or even the way in which it must be performed, aye? Still, I am of accord that we're all in need of another drink. Mr Tightpurse...?"

He looked at Titan.

"What became of that rum?"

It was extremely unusual for Titan to ever share his rum, however Titan enjoyed the company of the two men. He also enjoyed the tale that Blake had told. Though it was definitely a new way to tell a story he was intrigued by it. He rummaged around the cupboards of his cabin and drew out several bottles full of dark, sweet liquid, which he presented to his guests.

***************************************************************

Despite their best efforts, the crew of the small fishing vessel had not gained much ground without a compass between them. When they had finally found their bearings, they had been lost for more than a day. Though Ragetti still held a sword vaguely in his direction, Will Turner made no effort to disarm him. He simply folded his arms and crossed the tiny deck of the boat to the starboard side. They were lucky really that the seas were gentle today. In a boat like this they'd be done for in foul weather.

A puzzled expression came upon Turner's face.

"What ship is that?" he said, half to himself as he looked ahead. True enough, the form of the _Kaelas_ roamed the horizon. It was at least twice the size of the fishing boat, with oriental sails. It seemed to be heading their way.

_It's not the _Pearl, he thought. _A trading ship? Or could it be Surreal's?_

But if it was Surreal...she was heading back to Port Royal. Had she failed to locate Jack? Or worse...what if she hadn't and was already on her way back to gloat about her completed task?

Ragetti lowered the sword. He figured if Will were going to try and attack him, he probably would have already done it by now. He sheathed the weapon. At Will's question, Ragetti moved to have a look for himself. The ship that was approaching them was very large and Ragetti didn't recognize it. "Doesn't look like it's from around here," he said.

He hoped the ship would pass them by. It was heading away from their desired destination and toward Port Royal. He had no desire to return there ever again if he could help it. He knew that if the ship desired to attack them, there was nothing they could do about it. Their fishing vessel was too small and had no weapons. Ragetti watched the ship, waiting to see what it would do.

*****************************

As the _Kaelas_ approached the fishing trawler, Surreal tried to get a better view of the three blobs through her telescope. She debated about going below to find out what had happened to Titan and Jack, but then decided against it. She didn't care if they ripped each other apart.

Meanwhile below deck, Titan noticed that the ship had adjusted course. As Jack continued to babble in a stupor, he mused upon where they were heading.

"Well lads, we seem to have changed course. I reckon that we should go up and find out what the hell Surreal is up to," he said.

Sadly, the esteemed musician Blake had fallen into a deep, rum-filled sleep and therefore was to miss the ensuing action he craved so deeply to see.

Having become sufficiently plastered from the quantities of rum he'd now consumed, Jack was open to almost anything. Despite the fact he'd not noticed the change in course as much as he wouldn't have known the ceiling from the wall...he raised his bottle in agreement to Titan's suggestion. Sparrow sat up, got up, smacked his head on the underside of the top bunk, fell back and picked himself up again. He staggered to his feet, readjusting his bandanna.

"Lead on Mr Titan!"

**************************************

Ragetti noted that the strange ship was headed right for them. It wasn't going to pass by after all.

"Looks like she's headed straight for us!" he said, glancing at Pintel.

Pintel had seen the _Kaelas_ and was noticeably sweating. In his panic, he spun the wheel, hoping to speed far enough to the side of the oncoming vessel so as to pass her in a wide arc. "God help us if they be pirates!" he cried. "We ain't got a scrap to bargain with save our lives."

Ragetti gulped. He didn't particularly feel like bargaining his life at this point in time. He reached into his pocket and felt the Bible he had stolen, hoping it would give him some comfort. It didn't work particularly well.

Titan started to make his way up to the helm, presumably with Jack in tow, though he wasn't sure and he couldn't be bothered to check. He'd seen Surreal looking through her telescope, and so he glanced across at the fishing boat. He moved closer to her while he kept an eye on the small vessel, all the time wondering why Surreal had such an interest in the ship. He approached her cautiously as he was unsure of her emotional state.

"Surreal?" He tried to remove the hesitation from his voice, without much success.

Startled by Titan's sudden appearance and the faltering in his voice, she had nearly dropped the telescope from fright. She had not heard him coming, and this was something that she didn't like, especially in her line of work.

"Yes, Titan?" she replied quizzically. "What can I do to help you?" she asked pleasantly while trying to conceal her anger at him for sneaking up on her.

Surreal kept her gaze forward as she waited for his reply and it made it easier for her to get back her composure.

"I was just wondering about your interest in that boat out there. I noticed that we'd changed course. Why, Surreal?" Titan asked. He realised that he had given her a fright and that was why she was being a bit off with him. He was more worried because he'd noticed that she hadn't heard him coming, and that wouldn't have been sitting too well with her. Titan spared a glance behind him for their guest.

"Titan, you should know better than anyone that I never tell anyone something that I don't want to," Surreal addressed her brother. "Though I will point out that it is weird for a fishing vessel to be this far out of port…and that's something that I want answered, hence I'm heading towards the fishing boat."

Jack figure-eighted his way onto the main deck, rum bottle still in hand. He squinted at the boat on which the _Kaelas _was rapidly gaining. Noting the presence of the captain and her brother, he shouted over to them from near the mast.

"Oi! Where are you man'unters takin' us all now?" He held onto a section of rigging to steady himself and pointed to the fishing ship with the butt of his bottle. "And are we plannin' on mowing those poor buggers down as well?"

Surreal tried to keep a better hold on her explosive temper, but it seemed that every time she had control Jack would pop up and aggravate her enough so that she lost it. When she retorted there was no hint of suppressed anger even though her voice did rise.

"Jack, we're not _man hunters_. Well, maybe _I_ am, but my crew are pirates much like yourself. Also _Captain _Sparrow, why I'm heading to wards that ship has nothing to do with you as this is my ship not yours!"

Sparrow only just suppressed an indignant snort.

_Pirates...like...me?_ They didn't even look proper!

He took another deep draught of his liquor, swayed; blinked; and muttered:

"Pfft, who'd want this piddling, smelly little ship anyway? Prob'ly built by a eunuch or sammink..."

Too drunk to care whether she'd caught the tail end of his mumblings, he proceeded to climb precariously up to the crow's nest and plonked himself out of sight and out of harm's way.

At that time, Ragetti wished he were somewhere out of the way too. Unfortunately, there was no place he could go. The _Kaelas_ was still showing no signs of slowing down. There seemed to be nothing left to do but prepare for a possible fight. He took his hand out of his pocket and placed it on his sword, ready to pull it out if need be. And so far as he could tell, that need would definitely come, and soon.

No matter how hard he steered the boat, Pintel could not get her to escape the _Kaelas_ bearing down on them. Ragetti was right; it was on course to intercept them. "It would be nice if you could give us an' 'and Mr Turner!" he bellowed angrily over the roar of the increasing waves. "Jib the main-sail towards the port side!"

_What in the name of hell has gotten into Surreal_? Titan mused as he watched the brief conversation between his sister and Jack. _Though I must admit that since Jack has been aboard she's been acting differently_. _This job must be too much for her… but to suggest that… she'd probably try and remove something_.

He made his way over to Stubleg Morgan. "How long until we rendezvous with the fishing vessel?" he quizzed the man at he helm.

"It won't be long now," Stubleg replied.

There was an atmosphere about the ship, but Titan couldn't work out what was behind it. It was like the crew were waiting for something really bad to happen, though he couldn't for the life of him think what it could be.

Will ceased gawping at the nearing ship and raced to pull on the stays that would move the sail.

"She's not a trader!" he cried. "She's armed."

They were now close enough to see people rushing about on the deck of the larger ship.

The _Kaelas _was now almost on top of the small vessel. Surreal had also noticed that aboard it was none other than the blacksmith Will Turner.  
_Well well well, what are you doing all the way out here Mr Turner?_ _I wonder if he's trying to warn Jack._ _A little late I think_, she mused.

"Titan!" Surreal called. "Get the crew prepared to board, but make it clear nobody moves until my signal!"

Once the _Kaelas_ and the small vessel were aligned Surreal leant over the edge and looked at Will.

"Well Mr Turner, how nice to see you again. How about you come on up onto my ship? Your two friends are welcome as well." Surreal smiled sweetly as she waited for him to make up his mind.

Will gave up tugging at the sails and picked up the pistol lying on the deck. He knew it wasn't loaded yet, but hopefully Surreal didn't. Ignoring her question for now, he called:

"You're heading back to Port Royal. What is your business there?" He narrowed his eyes, keeping the pistol at his side for the time being. He wasn't about to ask about Jack just yet. He didn't want to let her know he knew more than he'd already given. He also didn't know if he wanted to hear the answer.

Ragetti was surprised to discover that the captain of the ship was female, but not half as surprised as he was to discover that she seemed to know Will. They had been invited aboard, but Ragetti was a little reluctant. _Still…_ he thought. _They haven't attacked us outright yet. Pe'haps there's a chance a deal can be made...maybe we could join their crew, if even for a short while. We may get out of this alive and in one piece...if we're lucky_. _But wait a second...did Turner just say that ship had just been in Port Royal and that she was returning there?_ That wouldn't do. Ragetti knew he and Pintel were for the noose if they ever returned. He glared at the _Kaelas_ angrily, but shot a quick worried look to Pintel.

"Well you see I have some business there, and so does a guest aboard my ship. Now, sugar, what are you planning to do with that pistol? Shoot me? I very much doubt that, as if you do, how will you know what has become of Jack Sparrow?" Surreal replied, though she kept her eyes on the young man below her as she spoke. "Titan, would you please inform our guest about who has arrived.

"Now boys," she said, beckoning to the other two men aboard the ship. "Why don't you come on up here and relax? It can't be much fun in that small boat of yours. We have food and rum aboard." She guessed that they were pirates and thought that they would welcome the invitation.

At the mention of rum Ragetti felt a particular tug on his heartstrings. It had been ten years since he last was able to enjoy a proper drink.  
"Sounds like they're being awfully hospitable," he said to his fellows in the boat.

Pintel smiled nervously back at Ragetti.

"Aye I think 'twould be best if we did what 'er ladysh- I mean what the young captain wants. I'm sure if'n she 'as a kindness of 'eart she won't force us to get off where we came from so long as we offers our services." He left the helm and waddled over towards the looming side of the _Kaelas_. He bowed low to Surreal. "We'd be honoured to join you aboard yore beautiful vessel, marm, cap'n, marm!"  
He glared quickly at his friend. "Wouldn't we?"

Ragetti nodded eagerly, but not so eagerly that his eye fell out. "Yes, ma'am! We'd be much obliged!"

Will scowled and picked up his bag of supplies, but still kept a hold on the pistol. He wasn't much used to firing one, but he'd brought it along for emergencies. The shots he'd kept in the inside pocket of his shirt.

_Guest? _he thought. _I doubt I'd like to meet any 'guest' of Surreal's. What if it's the person who's after Jack, or _was_ after Jack if he's dead...?_  
Reluctantly, he allowed himself to be helped aboard.

"That's more like it. So who are you two then?' Surreal indicated to the pirates that had now come aboard.

Ragetti hesitated in answering. He'd spoken and acted when he shouldn't have too many times already during this little adventure. He decided if Pintel gave his name, then he would give his.

Pintel bowed again to the extraordinarily dressed woman. "Er, name's Pintel, marm. Just a lowly pirate but very good at bein' loyal an' following orders and such. Same with Ragetti here, ain't that right?"  
He grinned encouragingly at his friend.

Ragetti smiled and nodded, bowing slightly. He blinked and his wooden eye swivelled slightly in its socket. "Yes, ma'am," he said, addressing the captain and agreeing with his buddy.

Titan climbed the rigging towards the drunken pirate at the top of the mast.

"Oi Jack, move your butt! There's someone who wishes to see you!" he called.

A little snorting sound came from the crow's nest as Titan's shouting shocked Jack awake. His hand that was hanging over the side accidentally released the near-empty bottle of rum, which narrowly missed hitting Titan on the head.

"What do you wan' now?" he whined, without showing himself. "I don't 'ave a butt to move. 'Less it's some foreign word for my proverbial existence an' in that case yer can transport yer own _butt_ back where ya came from!"

There came a disgruntled whimper.

"Did you see where the bloody 'ell the rum went?"

Will's patience finally snapped. He couldn't hold back his worry for the pirate that had helped him rescue his beloved Elizabeth. He pointed his pistol an inch from Surreal's nose.

"The fact that you return to Port Royal with a smile on your face can mean only that your mission was a success. You killed Jack Sparrow."

As he said this, the plummeting rum bottle smashed a few feet away, distracting him.

Surreal took advantage of the distraction and kicked the pistol out of Will's hands. She then tackled him, sending them both crashing to the floor. She pinned him to the floor. "What in the hell do you think you are doing? How dare you point a pistol at me, you spineless whelp!" she screamed at Will, struggling to get hold of her temper.

Ragetti blinked in surprise_. Jack was dead by the hands of this woman?! And where did that rum bottle come from? _He had started to look up, but when Surreal attacked Will he jumped back wards, watching in amazement. He'd never seen a woman do _that_ before...

Titan heard Surreal scream at the gentleman she had pinned to the floor. "Oh dear!" He made his way down the rigging with such a speed he was shocked that he didn't fall. "All of you stay calm and don't move. I'll handle this!" Titan shouted to everyone below him. The one thing that he didn't need was anyone else making her angry.

The struggling Mr Turner breathed shallowly, surprised at her strength. He felt hopeless, and angry.

"You're lucky I didn't shoot you the moment I saw you again. I know Jack Sparrow, or should I say I _knew_ him. He was a good man, no matter his ways of living, and if I hadn't thought him capable of dealing with the likes of you, I'd've tried to put a sword to you back in Port Royal," he growled. All he had was his anger. If he stopped for one moment, he'd be on the road to guilt and self-blame. He'd caused the death of an innoce- um, relatively harmless man.

Ragetti was in denial. _Jack couldn't be dead. He'd survived too many impossible situations to be dead. _He didn't voice these thoughts as Titan's voice filtered down to them from above. He also didn't move for fear Surreal would turn and attack him next. Not for the first time since Barbossa's death, Ragetti wished he were cursed again. He thought it ironic, considering how much he had whined about being cursed before.

Jack sat up at the mention of 'someone who knew him'. He wasn't able to see down to the deck from the height he sat but under his blurry vision, his hands strayed to his pistol holster.

"If it's that bloody monkey," he muttered. "I'm up for some target practice." He paused. How would a monkey tell them it knew Jack? He shrugged, and pondered again. They'd been after a fishing boat. Maybe he'd nicked some fish off one of the vessel's men. Maybe they were still annoyed. Very quietly he got into a crouch and peered over the edge of the crow's nest and onto the commotion on deck.

Titan had come to a halt behind Surreal. He used all of his strength to pull both her and Will up to their feet and then apart. When she went to move Titan snarled. "Surreal, stay there. You know that I can beat you in a fight if I need to, please stay put." Titan held Will up and glared at him. "You best apologize to her or you'll have to deal with me, mate."

Will glared contemptibly at Titan.

"Apologize?" he said, aghast. "What sort of man are you to protect murderers like her?"

_Typical pirate_, he thought.

"I'm her brother!" Titan snarled. He raised Will a few inches off the floor. "You call her murderous, and yet you were the one pointing a pistol at an unarmed woman!"

Ragetti thought that while she was unarmed, she certainly wasn't helpless. He was a little surprised at Titan's revelation to be the brother of this...wild woman. He figured if Turner valued his life, he'd do well to apologize.

At the sight of Will Turner, a great twinkling beam of a smile split Jack's lips. He staggered to his feet and, wobblingly, clambered around to the top of the rigging. His unsteady feet slipped, jolting his fingers into letting go. With a short, sharp yell, he plummeted halfway down the netting. His foot snagged in a stray rope, leaving him to dangle upside-down.

Swaying back and forth behind Titan, he looked anxiously and awkwardly at everyone who felt the need to stare at him.

Will had hardly known what to say to the discovering that Surreal had a brother. On the verge of choking from Titan's grip, he opened his mouth to speak... until a pirate dropped out of the sky. He stared, flabbergasted, over Titan's shoulder at the swinging man.

"Jack??"

Ragetti's mouth dropped open in shock at Captain Jack Sparrow hanging upside down. How could this day get any weirder?!

"Well, at least 'e ain't dead," he mused to himself. He looked at Pintel to get his opinion.

Pintel scratched his bald head and shrugged back at Ragetti. He had also been keeping his distance from the tensions between Mr Turner and this ship's captain. He couldn't help but feel an admiration for the hapless Captain Jack in his distinguished arrivals. Admiration and pity.

"Like a fallen angel," he whispered to Ragetti. "No one like ol' Cap'n Jack! Not sure if 'e meant to do that though."

Ragetti shrugged and shook his head. "Nope, No one else like 'im on Earth at all," he said quietly. He looked at Jack a little fondly, bemused and a little proud, though he'd be sore to admit it.

Surreal had tried to contain herself but alas she was in total hysterics. It was just too funny seeing Jack fall and get stuck. She made her way over to him, pulled out her stiletto and cut him down from the rigging. She left him to fall the rest of the way.

"Nice entrance Jack!" Surreal joked.

She then turned to face both Titan and Will. "You see, he is not dead, but as a matter of fact he is a guest aboard my ship!" she said with sweet venom. She walked towards the two other pirates. "Stubleg, get these men settled into some of the spare bunks," she called and indicated Ragetti and Pintel.

And as for Will…

"Titan, get him out of my sight!" she shouted as she made her way to her cabin. "Then get the crew to set up the sparring ring! I'm in need of a serious workout!"

With that she had disappeared into her cabin.

"Oh dear," Titan sighed again. He'd let go of Will. "You heard what the captain said. Get the sparring ring ready!" he called to the crew. He started to walk off but turned to Will. "Do as you wish Mr Turner but I'll give you a little advice. I recommend that you watch this fight, as you will see what my sister is capable of even without a weapon. I will leave you to decide what you wish to do whilst I get ready." With that Titan left and made his way to his cabin to get changed and to collect his samurai sword, knowing that Surreal wished to fight him both with weapons and without.

Ragetti shrugged again and let a member of Surreal's crew lead him to a cabin, assuming Pintel would follow. Along the way, he tried to make eye contact with Jack...difficult as it was with one eye.

Pintel scurried along with Ragetti to their new quarters. He grinned at the soft bed awaiting him.

"Well I don't know about you, but I'm shattered wot wiv all this escapin' an' sailin' an' so forth. Better get wot sleep we can is wot I says." He stretched out on a bottom bunk. "I'm gettin' some shuteye. Wake me when we reach land."

"Alrigh'," Ragetti responded. He left Pintel to his nap and took to the deck of the ship. It felt good to be on a large vessel once again. The _Kaelas_ might not have been the _Pearl,_ Ragetti mused, but she was mighty pretty nonetheless. He remembered Captain Surreal mentioning a sparring ring and wondered what that was going to be about. Might be an interesting thing to watch.

Nursing his sore head, Jack sat up and squinted at the double vision of Will.

"And Merry Christmas to the both of you," he exclaimed. At the sight of Mr Turner's less than amused face, the sodden pirate put on an expression like a smacked dog. He timidly offered his palm to the lad. "Giz an 'and, son, eh?"

Will scowled at the man he'd taken pains to attempt to rescue. All this time he'd been gallivanting about making himself merry on the very ship of the woman who wanted him dead. What was Surreal's game? He rolled his eyes and tugged Jack upright a bit more roughly than necessary. He staggered as the pirate almost fell on him, so helped steady the unfortunate sod as well. At the stench of the rum hovering about his old acquaintance, Will gagged.

"In hell's name Jack, how much did you drink?" he scolded. "There's no point me shouting my pains to you while you're like this, so for your own sake you might as well stay drunk. Eeurgh, you stink!"

Offended, Jack sniffed the air about Will and peered at him through one eye. His other eyeshadow/charcoal-caked lid had momentarily chosen to take a nap. "You don't smell like a bunch o' roses neither. What 'appened? Fall down a mineshaft?" He hobbled after the gathering crewmembers to watch the sparring match, which was probably going to be more exciting in Jack's eyes...what with seeing two of everything.

Will glared. "That's the smell of an honest day's work, Jack, something you'd know very little about." He shook his head as the pirate ignored him and wandered in what was not a very straight line towards the crowd. Will sighed, grumbled, and followed after him.


	12. Where Be Jack? Part 2

**Chapter XII: Where Be Jack? (Part 2)**

Ragetti thought it best he not get in the way of Jack and Will. He tried to back away, but there were too many people standing behind him. He stumbled and bumped into another man. The bump knocked his wooden eye out and it rolled across the deck. Ragetti swore and ran after it, trying to scoop it up before it got too far away or was stepped on.

Titan stood alone in the sparring ring as he waited for Surreal to show. It seemed odd that the crew wished to watch this as it was a normal occurrence every day aboard the _Kaelas_, but then on a normal day Surreal hadn't tackled, then pinned, a man to the floor. Titan grimaced as he saw Surreal approach.

She strode into the ring, she checked her pace and came to a stop in front of Titan.

"No swords, I'm in the need of physical contact!" she spoke calmly, which was seriously odd seeing as she was still thoroughly annoyed.

They started to circle each other, as they waited for the match to start. The sound of the gong rang in their ears. The match had begun! Surreal flew at Titan with a side kick then rolled it into a spinning side kick. Titan dodged, then countered with a body hook. It just missed as Surreal swifted her weight to avoid it. They broke apart to get some space. Surreal smiled, then launched herself again, this time with a roundhouse, following into a spinning hook kick then into a one-step jumping front-kick. All three of her kicks hit their mark. Titan dropped to one knee while he tried to catch his breath. Surreal took the opportunity and threw out another roundhouse. However Titan stopped her leg and threw her to the floor, then quickly shifted so that he was on top of her, pinning her to the floor. She hated Titan whenever he did this but then she did know how to get out. She angled her legs so that they hooked his neck and used all of her strength to send him flying backwards.

The fight continued like this for a good five minutes, but after that Surreal and Titan had cuts and bruises, and Surreal's anger had dissipated.  
They both sat on the floor while they caught their breath.

Ragetti paused from his chase when the fight started. He'd seen spats before, but none like this. This trip seemed to be comprised of nothing but firsts for him. He saw one of the crew staring at him. Ragetti realized it was because of his empty eye socket and flushed.

"Wot you lookin' at?"

The sailor looked away quickly and Ragetti resumed his search for his lost wooden eye.

Something bumped into Jack's boot. Puzzled, he reached down for it, which took a few grabs at thin air until he found the one he wasn't imagining. Sparrow focused on the wooden eye, made an 'Oh' of realisation and as though it was nothing new to him, handed it to the oblivious Will Turner.

"Hmm?" said Will as Jack passed him the object. He stared goggle-eyed at it for half a second and made a small scream, a manly scream though. Even so, he screamed, and dropped Ragetti's wooden eye, allowing it to bounce off amongst the cheering crowd.

Ragetti heard Will cry out and saw him drop his eye. Ragetti growled softly. It was just a fake eye...nothing to get all heebie-jeebie about!

He walked up to Will. "Oi, thanks very much, mate," he said sarcastically. "Now how am I gonna find it, eh?"

Seeing he'd got Will into a bit of a dispute, Jack would have found it amusing to stand back and watch. But no matter how drunk he was, he decided that annoying Will any more was not a good option. He leaned in to intervene and patted Ragetti fondly on the shoulder.

"Just look for the next man to scream, mate," he said. Jack paused, frowned, and squinted at the cycloptic pirate. "'Ere, 'ave I met you before?"

As the crowd started to disperse, Surreal noticed a little commotion between Will, Jack and someone whom she thought might have been Ragetti, though she was unsure. She felt tired, bruised and sore from the fight, but she felt no more anger, which was the whole point of it.  
Out of the corner of her eye she saw something roundish rolling along the floor. She jumped forward and intercepted the rolling item. Once she had taken a closer look she realized that the item in question was actually an eye. Surreal glanced once more at the fuss between the three men and realized that Ragetti was missing said eye. She sighed and walked to wards them. She passed Ragetti the eye and smiled.

"I take it that this is yours?"

With that she walked off to her cabin in need of a long soak.

Ragetti smirked at Jack's comment. He was a little surprised Jack didn't remember him very well, but then again Jack did appear to be more drunk than usual. Before Ragetti could respond, however, Surreal had walked up to him and handed him his eye. He accepted it gratefully and shouted a thank you to her as she walked away. He dusted the eye off and popped it back into place, ignoring the disgusted look Will gave him.  
Rubbing his eye, Ragetti responded to Jack's question. "Yeah, we 'ave. They call me Ragetti."

Sparrow couldn't help but grimace as an eye socket was filled in front of him. However, he was polite enough to do so while the man was concentrating on inserting it and immediately afterwards gave a tight-lipped smile.

_Ragetti? Strange name, sounds like a type of pasta. Speakin' of which, I'm still starved..._

Fortunately he did not voice his thoughts and instead burbled: "No doubt I met you in Tortuga or summink? Or an old crewmate on my travels before I set out to retrieve me Pearl?" Before Ragetti could answer, he added "Aye, I wonder you were probably a loyal and worthy man, deserving of much more attentions. As a matter of apology for my ignorance, allow me to escort you to where I know there be victuals aplenty!"  
He strolled off towards Surreal's cabin, far too inebriated to consider/notice that she'd already taken that same liberty to return to her quarters.  
His fingers on the door handle, he pivoted clumsily to look at Will. "I suppose you're also welcome to join us, Mr Turner." He fluttered his free hand in mock flattery.

Ragetti shook his head, remembering Barbossa's speech to them long ago about why they should mutiny against Jack. Ragetti forced those thoughts from his mind. He wanted to make friends with Jack again, and reminding him of the mutiny would _not_ be the way to go. He followed Jack as he headed for the cabin, contemplating whether he should tell him that he was in fact part of said mutiny...

No. Definitely not.

Will retained his sulky expression and folded his arms, but followed Jack into the captain's cabin. He was surprised at the slightly-picked-at feast spread out upon the table. In need of a rest, he sat down in one of the chairs opposite the captain's.

Ragetti's eyes widened at the sight of all that food. He'd yet to have a proper meal since the curse was lifted, let alone one he could enjoy - one that would make him feel full. His stomach rumbled loudly.

Jack freewheeled into the cabin and parked himself in Surreal's chair. Without a care he elevated his boots to the tabletop and helped himself to a bread roll and a bunch of grapes.

"So, Mr Raga...Mr Rageh..._wossisface_, what brings you aboard a puny little fishing boat with our Mr Turner 'ere? And where's that little barrel-shaped pally o' yours?" Seeing as he could not spy the captain anywhere, he did little to dampen the volume of his speech.

"He's in our cabin," Ragetti replied, grabbing a piece of fruit. "We was goin' to Tortuga." He cast a mere glance over at Will, wondering if he was going to elaborate on how he came to be on the fishing boat.

Will sat picking at the peel of an apple. He was starving but he could hardly bring himself to eat anything. He'd worried Elizabeth for nothing. The Turner breed weren't in the habit of snitching on people, particularly kinds like Ragetti, who seemed as though he was probably the sort just wanting to stay out of trouble and therefore was not a great threat. So, for now, he said nothing about exactly where the two had come from. Nor where he knew he'd seen them before.

"Yes," Will said. "We were heading to Tortuga in hope of warning you about Ms SaDiablo. But it seems the effort is rather wasted."

Meanwhile, as Surreal lay in the bath, she heard her cabin door open and close. She could hear Jack's voice muffled through the walls of the side room. She listened harder and made out Ragetti and Will's voices also.

_What in the hell is going on? Why are they in my cabin_? _Well… there goes my relaxing bath_, Surreal mused as she got out from the water. Wrapping a towel around herself, she walked through the adjoining door to her bedroom and threw on some clothes. Then she made her way quickly and quietly to the main area of her cabin.

Jack was just about to respond to Will's less-than-pleased attitude when the newly-washed Surreal strode into her cabin. He grinned at her.  
"'Allo, luv. Come to join us, 'ave you? Didn't see you there."

"Hello boys, are you enjoying yourselves in my cabin?" she asked sweetly. She walked right up to Jack, not too happy to see that he was sat in her chair. "Well, sugar, how about you get out of my chair before I make you? I hope, even with being drunk, that you haven't forgotten that this is my ship?" Surreal said, while looking very murderously at Jack.

The cheeky pirate's face lost its impertinence. He gave a slight cough and slid his feet from the desk. He pushed off from the tabletop to help himself up, then sauntered to the back where he leant against the wall. Jack then set about concentrating upon eating his grapes, his hand dancing through the air as he chose which ones he would eat. Those that were beyond his fancy, he plucked and tossed out of the window beside him.

"Thanks, sugar," Surreal commented as soon as Jack vacated her seat. She sat down and placed her legs up on the table in the exact spot where Jack's were before he moved. "Well now that that's settled, does someone mind telling me why you're all in my cabin, without my permission I might add, having disturbed my bath!" She looked at each of the three men intently.

Surreal rooted through one of her drawers and pulled out her sword-cleaning kit, then reached out and removed Kaetien from the display case. As she polished, she added: "Don't worry, boys, I'm not going to attack you. I'm not being contracted to do so. However, Mr Sparrow, I'm still waiting for that list of people who want you dead."

Ragetti gulped at the sight of the large and beautiful sword. It looked extremely sharp, and Ragetti didn't want to see her test on him just how sharp it was. "S-sorry, Miss...Captain...Ma'am" he stuttered, quickly exiting the cabin.

_What's got into him_? Surreal wondered, before she looked down at Kaetien. _Oh. __Well ain't that nice - a pirate who's scared of a woman with a sword._

Jack jumped in before Will could do his habit of messing everything up, even if he knew anything or not.

"Well, y'see missy, I told you before. There are far too many people out there that like to harbour grudges towards meself for all sorts of reasons...." He noticed Surreal's blank but fierce stare and hurried along. "But now you mention it, perhaps there are one or two more _dangerous_ rivals. A few..._authorities_...that want me a little more dead than pushing up little white flowers, savvy? I'd say it were one o' me old crew...one that mutinied against me...'cept that I sort of...kind of...shot him and then the ocean claimed him and the whole island 'e was on. Plus, I think 'e'd want to come after me 'imself…

"So, my stashes of wealth, that are yet to come, are bet on the East India Trading Company. I doubt they'd bother cammin' all the way out 'ere but they wouldn't shirk the idea of sending one such as yourself, lass."

The half-bitten apple hidden behind his back, Will listened grumpily to Jack's admittances. He could tell the man was sobering up, which meant it was getting closer to the time he could give the little git the telling-off he rightly needed. However, as he heard the mention of Barbossa and a far-off, but powerful organisation...Turner couldn't help but sense Jack was missing a more crucial and altogether nearer threat that was rather blindingly obvious.

"Or there's Port Royal," he interrupted, loudly.

Ragetti, who was still listening from outside the cabin, churned what Jack was saying over in his head. So...Jack thought there was someone out to kill him, and from what Ragetti gathered, Surreal was the one who was sent to do the deed. But they were wondering who had sent her on the job. He heard Jack mention Barbossa and the mutiny. Would he remember that Ragetti himself was once part of Barbossa's crew? Ragetti almost hoped not. He rubbed his wooden eye. He didn't much like the sound of the East India Trading Company. Weren't they the ones who branded pirates? Ragetti himself had not yet been branded, though he still considered himself to be a pirate. He hoped they wouldn't run in with the EITC.

He heard Jack rule those two out as the ones who were after him. "If 't weren't them, than who?" Ragetti wondered. He gasped softly when he heard Will mention Port Royal. Were they really going to return there? He had to hear more...if he could get enough information then he could tell Pintel about it and they could decide what to do.

Surreal glanced at Will. "Port Royal? Who in Port Royal, Mr Turner? Or is it all of Port Royal?"

_Well well well, no wonder he didn't want to go to Port Royal aboard my ship_. _The man who hired me must be there_, she mused to herself.

Not so calmly behind Surreal, Jack was gesticulating in an urgent and furious manner. _NO! STOP! NOT GOOD! SHUT UP! NOT GOOD!_ his mind screamed and his arms waved. Of course he didn't know exactly who had hired Surreal, but if it _did_ happen to be a certain Commodore and his men that had been fruitlessly chasing after him for several months...although strangely giving up just recently...(for Jack did not know that he had resigned his commission) ... he didn't bloody well want Ms SaDiablo questioning Norrington and deciding after all that she wanted to kill his piratey self.

Trying to keep a straight face over the pirate hopping up and down behind the captain of the Kaelas, Will sat up comfortably in his chair. However, the wild look in Sparrow's eyes told him he should probably be careful what he said, but the problem was...what shouldn't he say?

"Well...Port Royal as a whole doesn't really like him. They expected to see Jack hang a few months ago for his crimes, particularly after he st-, commandeered...one of their best ships, not to mention briefly threatening the governor's daughter during one of his escapes." At this point he glared at the frantic Jack, sending an Elizabeth-related stab of vengeance.

"Did he now? Hmmm, did Mr Sparrow here upset anyone else except the Governor and his daughter?" Surreal asked in a not-too-bothered way, as she didn't want Will to clam up. At least now she had a starting point. She'd have to speak to the Governor discreetly, as Will was not too happy when she threatened to speak to him the first time. Surreal shifted her position on her chair and her back started to ache, but she didn't in anyway show this.

While she listened to Will, she had been polishing Kaetien, but now she just sat there with it resting on her lap, waiting to be placed back into the glass cabinet behind her. At the moment she left it where it was as unsure whether she could move again just yet, as her muscles had started to stiffen.

Ragetti heard the Governor and his daughter being mentioned. _Weren't she that poppet wot said she wos Bootstrap's kid?_ Ragetti thought. _She 'ad the last medallion 'an Pintel and I kidnapped her. She invoked the right of 'parley'...yeah, I remember_. He wondered if she did have anything to do with someone wanting Jack to be killed. He doubted it. After all, from what he heard, she and Jack also got quite 'chummy,' especially when they left them on that island together. Ragetti grinned and snickered at that thought.

Will tensed at the mention of the Governor's daughter. He didn't want Surreal _anywhere_ near Elizabeth. Furthermore, last he'd heard, the Governor had taken a trip back to England on some sort of small political affair. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jack stiffen like a board but with arms still waving maniacally.

_He doesn't want her to know who might be after him_, he thought.

"Yes I suppose, Mr _Sparrow_ did upset someone more personally than others in Port Royal," he said darkly. He saw Jack turn pale. He held Surreal's gaze in a terribly long pause before finally giving his answer...

"Me."


	13. Ye Can Run, But Ye Can't

**Chapter XIII: Ye Can Run, But Ye Can't…**

Somewhere overhead a sailor cried out "Land ho!"

Ragetti heard the shout and cursed to himself. They were back at Port Royal! He ran to the cabin where Pintel was sleeping, set to wake him and tell him what he had heard.

Surreal rose from her seat. "An interesting thought, Mr Turner. One which I believe we must postpone, as we appear to have arrived at our destination. You may do as you wish when we land." Needless to say she had not believed him. If he had been heading to Tortuga on such a small boat, in search of Jack, he couldn't have been too upset with him. Nevertheless, she decided to humour him. With that, Surreal walked out of the cabin carrying Kaetien with her. At the helm, Surreal spoke quickly to Titan, whilst he steered the ship into Port Royal.

Jack gulped after Surreal had left the cabin. He made a series of facial expressions to Will that ranged from a nervous 'nice to see you' smile to an annoyed scowl. He sidled along with his back to the open window.

"As usual, Mr Turner, it's been fun," he said.

And threw his bunch of grapes at the young blacksmith. Before Will could stop him, Sparrow leapt out of the window and plunged into the waters of Port Royal harbour.

Will flinched and dodged the projectile fruit. He leapt up from his chair and ran for the window.

"Jack!" His eyes searched the foaming ocean in vain. Seething with anger, he banged his fist on the window ledge and stormed out onto the deck after Surreal.

Surreal picked up her telescope and climbed the rigging. As the _Kaelas_ pulled into Port Royal the crew scurried about under Titan's orders. Surreal sat and watched the scene below her, enjoying the sweet sea breeze. She loved to stay hidden whilst Titan basically took over. She never had a problem with this, as in a way the crew respected him more than her. He tended to spend time with the crew while she was on missions. Once or twice Surreal actually debated standing down as captain but Titan would never let her, because as far as he was concerned she was the captain and always would be. Plus, seeing as the crew referred to him as 'Captain Titan' it didn't really matter, as in a way they were joint captains.

Surreal noticed that Will had walked out onto deck, but she didn't see Jack anywhere and she could tell by the way that Will was walking that he wasn't very happy. She pulled out the telescope and scanned the horizon and Port Royal. As she did this, she spotted a figure in the water. It was Jack. Surreal couldn't help but burst out laughing. She didn't care where he wished to go. She would be able to find him when she wanted to. Deciding that she'd best have a little chat with Will before he left the ship, she clambered back down to the deck.

"Well Mr Turner, it was nice to see you again. Hopefully next time it won't be under such dire consequences," she said then decided to add, "I'm planning on speaking to the Governor. There is no need to worry as it will be a polite chat, then I'll be back on my way." With that, she headed off to speak to Titan.

Turner gawped like a fish. _The Governor? Elizabeth lives there. Must warn...oh stop thinking and do something! _As soon as Surreal's back was turned, Will bolted off, raced down the gangplank and ran full pelt through the town towards the Swann household.

Titan couldn't make out what had been said but as soon as Surreal turned, he'd seen Will go white as a sheet and scamper off the ship. Titan gave into the temptation and roared with laughter.

"What's so god damn funny Titan!" Surreal asked, immediately pretty annoyed at Titan for this display. She looked over her shoulder in time to see Will sprinting off into the distance. "Charming." She sighed then turned back to Titan. "Will you pull yourself together? I've got a job for you. I need you to get the ship stocked up and do that thing we were on about earlier."

"Oh shut it, sis,' Titan replied exasperated, What's wrong with a bit of fun now and then? Now that you have ruined my fun, I suppose I'll go and complete the task though why you're getting me to do it I'll never understand." As he walked along the dock he decided to have a look around Port Royal, as he knew that Surreal would be following both Jack and Will once they'd had enough of a head start.

*****************************

Pintel let out a swine-like snort and jolted awake as his friend blundered into the sleeping quarters.

"Wha'? Wot is it yer makin' all the racket fer? I tol' you to wake me up when we got there!"

"Sorry, Pint, but there's a big problem," Ragetti said. "I 'eard Jack an' Turner an' Surreal talkin'. See, Surreal's an assassin who's hired to kill Jack, but she don't know who 'ired 'er so she's goin' to Port Royal to fin' out. Turner 'eard 'bout all this and that's why 'e wos on 'is way to Tortuga - to warn Jack. And land's jus' been sighted...we're back in Port Royal!"

Ragetti rubbed his wooden eye fretfully as he explained all that he had eavesdropped in on. He heard a splash that sounded like someone had jumped over board, but didn't think much about it at the time. There were bigger things to worry about.

After their plight had been explained to him, Pintel tried to think calmly.

"That dunt sound too good, do it? If someone's wantin' Cap'n Jack dead that badly, I'm thinkin' they won't be fond o' the likes of us neither. We might be next on their list. So wot we've gotter decide is whether we should jump ship now while no one's watchin' us but risk being back in Port Royal, or we hang on 'til the _Kaelas_ docks in another port. My idea is that if we get off here, no one would suspect like. They'll know a boat went missing and they'll think we're out at sea. Last place they'll look is back 'ere is my guess. Wot do you think, Rag? Then maybe when they're tired o' lookin' for us, we can nick another ship."

Ragetti slid an uneasy glance at the door. "I dunno...since land's been spotted there'd be a lot of people on deck...how'd we get away wit' it?" He rubbed his eye again. "And wot if they spot us? We know their ship is fast...they could catch us..." His anxiety about getting caught by the Navy was getting the better of the one-eyed pirate.

Pintel heard the thud and clamour overhead as running feet hammered the deck. He got up and looked out of a porthole window. He squinted at the figure disappearing rapidly into the midst of Port Royal.

"Well, there goes Mr Turner. I'd say Ms SaDiablo'll be far more occupied tryin' ter find 'im than a couple o' new crewmen, right?"

Ragetti really hoped that would be the case. He decided to risk it.

"All right. Let's go."

Pintel nodded and crept to peer out on the deck. "I says we tries and breaks in the local blacksmith's, get us some more weapons. You've only got that sword o' Turner's and I've got me bare 'ands. Sound fair to you?" Beckoning to Ragetti to follow, he slipped out across the deck to the gangplank.

Ragetti followed his friend down onto the docks. "I think gettin' some more weapons is a good idea. You can never be too prepared for trouble, I says."

It must have been either madness or brilliance which led to a soaking wet Jack skittering through the shadows of the town in which he was most wanted and towards the most splendid house it held. It was nearing the end of the night but still dark, which made it less easy for him to be spotted by a patrol. The house looked fairly deserted too. Of course, what he didn't know was that the Governor was away on a trip, and the young lady he had been acquainted with had rushed off in search of Mr Turner. What servants that lay within were most likely getting as much rest/revelling at the nearest pub done as possible. Jack dove into a hedge, crawled along the lawn, then, sheepishly realising he could have walked the lot without being seen by a soul, stepped nimbly through an open window and entered the Swann household.

Turner tore up the path to the house and hammered on the door. After a few minutes, a woken and flustered butler opened it and demanded what the blacksmith was doing here at this unearthly hour.

"Trouble is coming. I need to speak with Miss Swann. Where is she?" Will blurted.

"I imagine she would be up in her room, sir," the butler replied, icily. "_Asleep_."

Will sighed and barged past him, racing up the stairs to Elizabeth's bedroom. The door was ajar. Peering inside, he saw an empty bed with ruffled covers. He pushed the door open a little wider and frowned. A jewellery box lay open on her dressing table. It didn't look empty, but it _did_ look dishevelled. Glancing down he saw a scattering of beads from a pearl necklace broken off their string. Will slipped a hand inside his shirt and took out one of his shots. He removed the pistol he'd stashed in the bag hanging over his shoulder and swiftly loaded it. Then he walked into the room. His gaze went immediately to a suspicious lump in the bedroom curtains. Turner strode over to the window, pulled back the safety catch of the pistol and prodded it into the bulge.

"What have you done with Elizabeth?" he growled as he threw back the curtain to reveal who was hiding behind it.

Sparrow shot his hands up in the air and yelled in surprise as the pistol was thrust in his face. A couple of rings bowled along the bedroom carpet. He breathed out a sigh of relief when he saw who it was.

"Oh, it's you. Scared the bloody life out of me." He set about picking up what he'd dropped as he rambled on. "Is this what's in fashion nowadays in _civilised_ abodes? Running into ladies' bedrooms waving firearms? Well, I tell you now, mate, it may be what your little bonny whasserface likes but I'm not impressed."

Will felt only minutely better that he'd been startled by Jack. He was still angry with him and still had no idea where Elizabeth was. He lowered the pistol a bit nonetheless. He scowled at Jack's every word and movement.

"And is this what's laid down in your Pirate code? Sneaking into the house of a friend and rifling through her possessions? Especially when the most likely reason I can't find her is down to you causing more trouble than you're worth. Surreal came to the smithy and was asking about you. She caused me to give you away and out of my own stupid guilty conscience, I _worried_ enough to come and find you, leaving Elizabeth with barely a clue where I'd gone!"

At the mention of the smithy, Jack straightened up and spun on his heel, bright eyes twinkling.

"You're a blacksmith! I almost forgot, I've got a little errand...task as it were to perform. Would you -?" He broke off at a cough and a glare from Will and pulled a wry expression. "Well maybe you shouldn't be so honest all the time and not let the lass know where you're off to. No worries, no scarpering strumpets, savvy? Now if you'll excuse me, Mr Turner, I have some supplies to get and a lot more ocean to get between me and a certain rather curvaceous assassin."

Sparrow strutted towards the bedroom door.

Will raised the pistol to aim at the back of Jack's bandanna.

"Another step with those rings you've just taken, Jack, and I'll shoot you."

Halting in his tracks, Jack glanced slyly to one side as he worked his magics. He turned slowly and showed his bare palms in a jazz-hand style.

"What rings would those be?" he asked, grinning. Noticing Will's unrelenting desire to not see the funny side to anything, Jack let his smile fade.  
"All right, keep yer 'air on," he said, twirling his wrists until the items came back into sight. "Besides, I was doing you a favour, mate." At Will's sceptical look, he continued, "See, all of these rings are for the third finger on a lady's left hand. However, a lady what might get engaged would 'ave no reason to wear any o' these little lovelies. And our dear Miss Swann, well, she ain't gonna be a _Miss_ too much longer, aye? Is she now?"

The uncomfortable silence made him frown.

"You 'aven't asked 'er yet!" he cried, partly questioning, partly knowing, and entirely amused.

Meanwhile, Surreal knocked on the door of the Swann residence. The butler once again answered the door, unhappy from being woken yet again from his sleep.

"I wish to speak to Governor Swann or his daughter, whichever is available. I've been sent by his Royal Highness regarding an urgent matter!" she asked the butler, hoping that her story sounded plausible, even though she had fake documentation in her side bag to persuade even the Governor that she had been sent by the King.

The butler gave her a once over look then allowed her inside. He then led her to the drawing room and left her there. Once she was left alone, Surreal started to pace within the room. After a few minutes she left, having heard muffled noises. She made her way up the stairs and the voices got louder. She glanced into all the rooms as she passed then came to a stop in front of a slightly open door. This was where the voices were coming from. She stood by the door and listened, keeping her presence unknown.

Under the onslaught of Jack's statement, Will flushed.

"There's been a lot to deal with while you've been off having fun, Jack. You know well that Elizabeth is of a higher order than myself and it has meant I have had to work harder and longer. Turns out that there's a rule regarding the minimum wage for a lower ranking citizen to wed one of higher status. I have had to do this to prove to not only Elizabeth and her father, but to the law that I am truly a suitable match.

"And not only this, arrangements had to be made to undo the documentation that awaited the late Commodore Norrington when he was supposed to be bound in matrimony to Miss Swann."

Jack frowned.

"_Late_ Commodore Norrington? What 'appened? Did 'e get 'imself into more trouble than 'e can 'andle? I know 'e was a bit...well...like 'e had a poker up 'is backside, but I personally don't think he deserved to 'fall behind'." He took his hat off for the first time in a good while and placed it respectfully to his chest.

Will rolled his eyes and lowered his pistol again.

"Late as in ex-_Commodore_. Norrington resigned." He scoffed at the look of surprise on Jack's face. "Oh come on, Jack. He wanted to marry Elizabeth. The poor sod probably worked his way up from the lowliest of soldiers for years to get where he was. And then he was promised that when Elizabeth came of age that he would marry her. I might agree with your suggestion of the poker, but I won't doubt that he loved her as I did. He lost Elizabeth...and the only thing he wanted as much as that was the recognition of capturing a wanted criminal.

"One criminal you know very, very well, Jack. Those three months ago when you got back the Pearl, he chased after you. Obviously he never found you. A few weeks back he returned to Port Royal empty-handed and resigned his commission. That's the last anyone's seen of him."

Surreal became quite intrigued as to what Jack and Will were talking about, as this made her job just a little bit easier. _Well well well, a _former_ Commodore Norrington_. _That makes hunting a little easier_. _I think I can now guess why he would want Jack dead so much_. _Well, depending on the chat that I'll have with him, he may get his wish!_ Surreal thought as she kept one ear on the conversation within the room. She did worry that Will or Jack might walk out at any moment so she decided to take what information she had and to leave before they found out. Surreal made her way quietly back downstairs and out the front, keeping an eye out for the butler, but he was nowhere to be seen. _He's probably gone back to bed_, she mused.

Jack made as though to look ashamed of leading the unfortunate Norrington in such a merry chase, but banished it with a shrug.

"He shouldn't've given up so easy. Strapping lad like the ol' Commodore living the life of a street urchin? Nah, I'm sure he'll change his mind. He'll take back that job of 'is you mark my words. I mean what's he losin' it over? Just a pirate and a girl. Sure as you like, he'll get over it. Anyways, I think it's high time I be off. That SaDiablo's probably all too busy looking for the man who wants me dead to bother with us." As though to settle his blatant denial, Sparrow set about inspecting the compass that had moments before been dangling from his belt. "Oh," he said with happy realisation and marched for the bedroom door.

Hearing a cough from Will, he hurriedly placed Elizabeth's rings back in the untidy box before making his exit.


	14. A Desperate, Unyielding Need

**Chapter XIV: A Desperate Unyielding Need For Supplies (Pt.1)**

Having sat quite calmly, quite patiently, waiting for Will to return for at least three days, Grigori had finally snapped. He was now rather bothered. He stood up, slamming closed his ship's log (he'd still not come up with much to cover his precious, precious latest entry), and exclaimed "Fie", storming to the nearest door (a storage cupboard, as it happened).

"Locked!" said he, deciding it most energy efficient to assume that all entrances and exits were similarly barred. "Trapped me in here, the young whippersnapper. Doubtless not through malice, but by some desire for greater security." _Who knows_, he thought, _what malicious villains might do, unchecked, on board a ship or even within such a town as this_.

_I shall escape_, thought he (for he'd not drunk a speck of water, save that held within his withered apples, in that half-a-month), _and if the doors are barred, then escaping through the roof would make for the most dashing, most stylish, and maybe even the most practical escape route._  
Looking around for something with which to crash through the ceiling, he found a small anvil, using much of his remaining strength to lift it onto a plank of wood. _Now_, thought Señor Hulliver, _if I pick up a secondary anvil, say, that one over there, and jump on the other end of the plank, this smaller one will be propelled through the air, smashing a hole in the roof, and I'll escape in style_.

He schemed, he heaved, he jumped, he fell with such conviction that, physics or no physics, the smaller anvil leapt ten feet in the air, bounced on the curvature of the roof, and fell down, smacking a heavy blow to the top of his pate, and rendering him incredibly unconscious. His final thoughts as he went down being, _if that Will Turner's not back in another fortnight when I awake, why, I'll take my business elsewhere_.

The wooden door to the smithy's slowly creaked open. A dirty head with sandy hair poked in. Ragetti's wooden eye swivelled as he looked around, as if he somehow were able to see out of it. He spotted the unconscious form of a man lying on the floor, but there seemed to be no one else about. Quietly as he could, Ragetti stepped into the shop.

Not quite as quietly as his slender friend, Pintel waddled in after him. Upon noticing the out-cold form of Senor Grigori, he let out a string of chuckles.

"Ehehehehe! Doesn't 'e look posh! Made a right ol' mess 'e has!" He shot Ragetti a sly look. "'Ere, I wonder wot 'e's got on 'im?"

Pintel tapped the pirate captain to make sure he wouldn't wake and then conducted a quick search. He was a little disappointed only to come away with a small leather purse. He'd wanted to take the man's cutlass as it looked rather pricey, but though he tried all his might, it would not come loose from its sheath. There had also been a journal full of scribbles and a strange green - almost glowing - dagger, both of which he had decided to leave behind. Having done, Pintel glanced around at the few racks of weapons lining the outskirts of blacksmith machinery. He started to inspect the swords.

Ragetti wanted to keep one eye open for trouble and one eye on his buddy and the swords found in the shop. However, seeing as he only had one useful eye, he quickly grabbed a sword and stood guard. He couldn't help but admire the blade he held, though. It was beautifully crafted.

"They sure make some pretty swords 'ere, don't they?" Ragetti remarked.

"Aye, never a truer word," replied Pintel. "I wonder 'oo makes 'em." Since he was only a little pirate, he settled for a tiny military rapier, which he attached to his belt along with its sheath. Then he set about looking through piles of ropes and chains at the back for something useful in the art of commandeering ships.

Meanwhile, Titan approached the blacksmith's on Surreal's orders. She needed her stiletto and knives sharpened again. She had also asked him to pick up some cutlasses. As he strode inside, the first thing he noticed was two scruffy looking pirates standing over a man who was unconscious.

_This don't look good_, he thought. He looked at the two pirates more closely and realized that they were the two on the boat that Turner was on.

"Funny seeing you two here. It's Ragetti and Pintel ain't it? And what have you two been getting up to?" he queried as he barred the door and made his way towards them.

Ragetti cursed quietly to himself. He never was good at keeping watch. "We-we ain't gettin' up to nothin'," he stammered.

Pintel stiffened like a board and drew his new rapier. He whirled around and growled at Titan.

"Nuffink, is right. Now, 'ow's about you go off back to yore pretty ship and leave us be. We ain't yore enemy and we ain't yore slaves neither. We's free men and we intends to stay that way. If you've got a problem wi' that, there'll be a little bit o' fuss heading in your direction!"

"Hey fellas, calm down, I'm not looking for trouble. I'm here on captain's orders. She needs some tools sharpening. Anyway why aren't you two on the ship? I thought that you were trying to get _away_ from Port Royal!" Titan said. He knelt beside the unconscious man and glanced at Ragetti and Pintel. "Would you give me a hand to move him? We need to get him sat up, plus he's in the way!"

Ragetti watched as Titan began to move the unconscious man over to a wall. He shrugged and, still keeping a firm grip on his new sword, helped put the man in a sitting position up against the wall.

"We ARE looking ta get away from Port Royal," he said. "We jus' wanted to get some...supplies."

A little sulkily since he wasn't sure if he was still getting his way, Pintel sidled over to his friend and Titan. They had already moved the unconscious pirate, so he settled on shifting the small anvil that appeared to have been involved in the man's mishap. He raised an eyebrow and addressed Titan.

"So...are you sayin' we's can come back on yore ship but get off when we please, no questions arsked?"

Titan gave both Pintel and Ragetti a look. "Yep that's exactly what I'm saying. With Surreal's line of work she tends to allow her crew to do whatever they want, no questions asked. Therefore she doesn't mind what they do as long as I'm happy with their work," he replied, wondering what they were trying to get away from. "So are you two gonna help me sharpen these swords or not, seeing as I don't see anyone here and it'll take me quite a while to do it myself." Titan stood up as he looked both men in the eyes, waiting for the information he'd given to sink in.

_Better to be on the side of the assassin than against her_, Pintel thought. "All right, maybe I will, but I can't promise a spectacliar job. I ain't no working man." He sheathed his rather amusingly small sword and held out a hand in order to start the job. "Giz one 'ere then. It'll be daylight soon an' we don't want the owners o' this place comin' back catchin' us unawares."

Ragetti proved to be better at sharpening swords than he first thought. The first one he sharpened turned out very well indeed. He focused on the swords - if he were to try to look away to glance at the unconscious man or to look out for anyone else who was approaching, he may have cut himself.

**************************************

Leonardo groaned and opened his eyes, then quickly closed them again when he realized he was face down. He rolled over and sat up, looking around for any sign of life where the Atlantic waves had left him sprawled on the sand.

_Ladri maledetti!!_ he swore. In his native Italian, in case anyone else was on the beach and could hear him being mysterious and foreign. Last time he'd washed up on a beach, a stranger (he hoped it was a stranger) had taken his spyglass, his apple, and his treasured pet potato.  
He pushed himself off the sand and stretched. _Now is a good time!_ he thought to himself. _Now is a good time to unravel the mysteries of my unnatural unlife! I shall not rest, not sleep, not even draw breath, until I find answers!_ And in this he was not exaggerating. He suddenly stopped thinking and gasped in an unnecessary lungful of air. He had stretched too much, and one of his ribs had cracked.

He swore again, and plodded up the beach in search of civilization.

_I'll find the answers I seek, and I'll return to my epic quest by retrieving my belongings, and killing the person who has them. _He nodded to himself. Killing people was always a good start to any adventure.

*******************************************

Captain Jack Sparrow marched down the empty main street of Port Royal's marketplace, his arm outstretched, compass in hand. The dusk was growing ever lighter. He didn't have much time. With Will Turner trudging along grumpily behind him, Jack pointed his compass at various buildings until he gave a small satisfied sigh and pranced over to a small tailor's shop. Carefully, he took out a long thin lockpick from the swamp of his dreads and twiddled with the shop door.

Having nothing better to do without knowing where Elizabeth was, Will had decided to tag along and keep an eye on Jack. Said eye was now boggled at the sight of the pirate who was nonchalantly breaking and entering. Checking no one was yet about, he stepped up close to Sparrow and hissed in his ear.

"Jack, what on earth are you getting me into now? What do you want from a clothesmaker?"

Jack paused in his efforts. _Why is it wherever I go, someone, somewhere always has to say something unerringly, irrevocably...stupid?_

"I would've thought, Will, that your question answers itself. By breaking into a shop what sells clothes, you'd probably suspect that I would be wanting some. A shirt to be precise. I've acquired a prospect of earning some new crewmembers, and one of them asked for supplies. So I'm staying true to my word."

Will sighed and started to remove his jacket. "If it'll stop you breaking the law in my presence, you'd better take mine. It's not of the absolute finest quality but I'm sure it would satisfy a pirate."

Jack rolled his eyes and returned to picking the lock.

"Keep yer garments on, I need a _new_ shirt for this man. 'E's got standards and would not take kindly to a rag what smells of a hard day's work. Furthermore, I can't think of a much more foolish way to attract attention than Master William Turner, soon to be engaged to the lady Swann, strolling through town 'alf-dressed."

He gave a muttered "Aha!" as there was a hearty click at his fingers. With a light push, the shop door swung open and Jack sauntered inside.

Once again making sure no one was watching them, Will slipped in after the pirate captain. He watched Jack rummage around the shop's stock, his thoughts ablaze. Then, a few more pressing ones came to mind.

"Jack...you were on Surreal's ship. Bearing in mind, she might've just dragged you on board, how did you get there? Where's the ship you caused so much trouble trying to get back after all these years? How long was it you were without her? Nine...ten...years?"

_Ow...brain hurts...so many questions. _"The Black Pearl suffered a little accident and is in the waiting for repairs at Tortuga. Surreal found me because...handily...I was trying to borrow her ship to make the little journey here for extra items. Yes I waited for the opportune moment to get the Pearl back, a moment you know well. And I'm still grateful for your 'elping me out o' the noose. As you should know, we're square. Even though you _did_ give away to that assassin strumpet my whereabouts. Water under the bridge, mate.

"I waited ten years. That rat Barbossa...I'd only 'ad her about three years afore he had his way with 'er. A whole decade, and 'im never 'aving earnt her. She's special...she's..."

Jack stopped rummaging. He straightened up and spun to face Will.

"Thirteen years...why is that horribly, unusually familiar?"

Captain Sparrow went sickly pale.

"New plan," he gulped. Before Will could ask, Jack cried "THERE IS NO PLAN!"

He bolted out of the shop door and down the street towards the harbour.

Leonardo pressed himself harder against the wall as Jack sped out of the shop. He tensed, his mouth opening slightly, his ears pricking, as he heard Will Turner trudge unwillingly out of the door. Lightning fast, he pounced, catching Turner across the back of his head with a hard elbow. He picked up the barely conscious body and flung him inside. He peered after Jack, who was seemingly oblivious to his friend's plight, and disappeared into the shop, slamming the door behind him. He calmly strode over to where Turner was lying on the floor, and raised his boot slowly.

"I want some answers, boy, an' ye seem t'ave a few o' the same as I need." He remembered following the footprint trail on the first beach upon which he'd landed to the inn in Tortuga, only to find that his mugger had already left. He had, of course, thrown himself a party by brutally clubbing anyone who wasn't running too fast to be caught, and in doing so, had recovered his spyglass from the barman, who had revealed that a one 'Jack Sparrow' had doubt caused all this. He had reached the dock area just in time to maim three pirates who had told him that Sparrow had boarded the ship that was just pulling out. He had dived into the familiarly disgusting water and hitched a ride, holding on to the rudder.

He smirked.

"Don't wanna play with ol' Leo?" He brought his boot down and slowly rotated the heel, pressing Will's face into the floor. "Ye WILL spill ye brains, ye dirty bilge-rat, or..." He paused as he drew a knife from his belt. "... or ye'll be spillin' ye guts instead. Now... who's this Jack Sparra?"

Surreal had been watching Jack and Will break into the shop. She had noticed a figure hiding in the shadows but stayed where she was until she saw him attack. At this bout of random violence she was furious. How dare he! She unsheathed Kaetien, and placed her loaded pistol in the back of her trousers just in case she'd need it. Though she doubted that as she was pretty good with her sword. She tried the door and noticed that it wasn't locked. She gently opened the door and slipped inside. She came up behind this pathetic excuse for a human being. At least when she was hired to kill it was always a fast kill. As soon as she was behind him she placed Kaetien at the back of his neck. She did not need to use any strength as the blade was very sharp.

"I recommend that you leave the gentleman alone and deal with me!" she hissed in his ear, not hiding her loathing. She was set so that if he made one wrong move she'd kill him with no second thought. Anyone who could knock out a man, and then be pretty vicious with them when they were unconscious, she wanted dead.

Will groaned, his vision swimming, his head feeling like a split melon. Perhaps following Jack about hadn't been a wise plan. He looked up at the blurred image of Surreal who was now threatening his attacker with a sword. At first he'd thought it was Elizabeth dressed oddly, but that was the concussion talking. Plus, Surreal's accent was certainly not as much the eloquent upper-class tone. Focusing on the man who had was causing a dent in his face, he grimaced. Something was terribly wrong with him. Could Surreal not see the awful paleness to the man's skin? What if this was what Jack was now running from? He crawled backwards and slowly got to his feet, his eyes glancing at the half-blocked doorway.

Leonardo was grinning broadly. He had no idea how he was going to get out of this particular situation unscathed, but that didn't bother him as much as the thought of his quest taking even longer to complete. Actually, this didn't bother him so much either, and compared to usual, things were going pretty well.

"All right, all right pet, calm yer pretty face down some, eh? Since yer obviously new t' this 'ere sword playin', I'll gizya a yer first shot free." He counted the weapons she could see, and the various ways in which to torture her with those she couldn't - this proved a bad idea, however, as he then became lost in a long trail of thought revolving around her eyes and some nails he'd found in a bag, on a pirate, in Tortuga. He finally snapped back into reality, and realized his new friend had remained silent for some time. "Well, wat'll ye be sayin' t' me gracious proposal, woman? ... Or have ye come to settle some other urges o' mine?" He grinned, hoping this comment would place him firmly on someone's hit-list.

Still considering making a hasty getaway from both the gruesome-looking man and the assassin, Will began to wonder if stalling him from chasing after the troubled pirate was a better plan. He pushed off the ruffian's foot and got to his feet.

"Who are you, and what do you want with Jack?"

"Wha? Shut yer baby-features, boy! Ye thinks me wants sumthin' from Jack Sparra'? I be wantin' nothin' but whats mine! Tha' bilge-rat pilfered everythin' tha' I had on me body! He even..." He paused, shuffling his feet. "He even knocked Bert out t' sea again, tha' filthy deck-lickin' lady-man!" He cleared his throat and resumed his angry-but-still-uncaring-and-also-quite-cool attitude. "Oh, an' I'm gonna' kill im... an' everyone aroun' im... an' yer lady 'ere... oh, an' you too, lubber... aaar, who else? Aye! An' I spotted an' 'ouse o' orphans in Tortuga - I'll kill 'em all too."

He grinned again, very satisfied with himself for remembering to include everyone. He felt the point of the blade prick the back of his neck ever so slightly.

"Don'tch'ye worry yerself, pet, I'll 'ave me way with yer 'fore I off yer..."

The foul vocabulary of this man stirred enough anger in Turner to give up on his thoughts of escape. Even though he could hardly pick up on what the devil he was on about half the time. He didn't want a person like this - whether his homicide claims were true or not - blundering around Elizabeth's hometown.

Will pulled out the pistol he'd been lugging about and aimed it at Leonardo.

"You'll do no such action, you foul sot. Get back to whatever inn you stumbled out of or better still sleep the day off and get whatever ills you have out of your system. There's only two options after that. I shoot you, or I call the guards, or...if the feeling takes me, I'll do both."


	15. A Desperate Unyielding Need 2

**A/N: **Thankee for reviews so far, mates. Just to reiterate that this story is written by various authors, meaning the style tends to change in most paragraphs. Nevertheless, if ye read parts of this ficcy that you particularly enjoy, let me know and I'll pass on the credit to my fellow players if they still be with the game. If ye're interested which charries I (the editor of this fine mush of plots) write at this particular point in the story, they would be the Cap'n, Will Turner, Kestrel Johnson and Pintel. Apologies for how I write Jack for the first few chapters. I feel he comes across as rather unintelligent. I promise he gets much better. Enough, Jack, shut up and let people read.

**Chapter XV: A Desperate, Unyielding Need For Supplies (Pt.2)**

Why was it, Elizabeth Swann wondered to herself in exasperation, that she could go nowhere and do nothing without something 'unpleasant' also occurring? It was not as though the time that had passed had not been stressful enough for her; goodness even knew where Will was anymore, and every time she thought of him she only had to fight away the worry that had overtaken her. She had not even been home since; she had taken to visiting a friend of the family--a girl she had known since she was young, and who was a bit nosey, though not unkind--whose home was near the docks. She wanted to keep a weather eye out for any sign of Will, Jack, or even be near if there was news of them.

But there had been no news, and soon she had been left to her own worry again. Walks often did well to sooth her nerves, and so that was what she found herself doing as soon as dawn came, making her way almost absentmindedly through the streets. In a most clichéd way, she came upon the tailor's rather run down store, and really...it shouldn't have surprised her to see Jack Sparrow running out of it and away from her as fast as his boots could take him.

"Jack!" Her voice was one of surprise, but by the time she found it he was already out of her sight. Interesting, that he could run that fast.  
Now, however, her attention was drawn away from the road and, more specifically, to the shop that the pirate had exited out of. She had been coming from down one of the side streets when Jack had run off, and it was when she turned to look upon the front of the tailor's shop that she paused, her face a mask of confusion. The door was ajar, and there was an unfamiliar woman standing in front of it, wielding a sword…

Curiosity got the best of her, along with a certain bit of apprehension. If Jack was near...then what about Will? Being as quiet as she could in her dress and dainty shoes--damn her clothing--she crept up to the door, her breath caught in her throat.

"What is going on here?"

Will's heart almost stopped. The last place he wanted Elizabeth to be at this particular moment in time, she'd just walked in on. He tried to pretend he didn't know exactly who she was, if that would do anything to further protect her.

"Nothing to concern yourself over, miss...whoever you are. Run home!" he said quickly.

Leonardo sighed depressively. "Are ye just gonna' stand there jabberin', boy? DO SUMTHIN'!!" He turned slightly. "An' yerself, wench? Stab me nice an' proper, or let me... heh heh, stab ye in a rather improper manner..."

He grinned, looking back at Will.

"... but let's 'ave some stabbin' o' some kind!"

Leonardo was growing noticeably irritated by the fact that these Caribbeans were seemingly so lacking in temper and violent nature to be at the point of impoverishment. His left hand quietly and inconspicuously moved to a dagger concealed in his coat. He felt his useless heart slow and his senses prick up. His eyes quickly identified the weak points on the boy, and what he could see of the warrior woman behind him. He let out a chilling breath of air as his body slipped instinctively into 5th gear - hunt mode.

At first, Elizabeth only stood there, stock-still and afraid to move. She'd been in strange situations before...but this was a new one. Quickly, her eyes scanned the room, taking in all of the people within it before her mind wrapped around what had just been said. He was pretending not to know her...but why? To save her? She didn't care. She finally found Will--and was silently cursing Jack Sparrow for all he was worth, for she had to think he had something to do with this--and shook her head. She had to do something...

"I don't know what's going on here, and I don't care to know," she said quickly, attempting to sound haughty and refined; not exactly a feat, but difficult to pull off in such a tensed situation. "But if you do not all leave, and leave this poor man be, I will be forced to alert the proper authorities!"

It was something...

The word 'stab' said anywhere near the woman he loved, pathetic as it was, sent Will into a mode of his own. He tilted the pistol downwards - and shot Leo in the foot. Then without a second thought, he bolted past Surreal and her captive, grabbed Elizabeth by the arm and tried to pull her with him to the docks.

"I'm sorry! Hurry!"

"Will!" His name escaped from her lips as more of a defined shriek than anything, but when he grabbed onto her arm and began pulling her towards the door and away from the newly-created chaos, there was not much she was going to do to fight him. Willingly she went with him, eager to put as much space as was possible between herself and the tailor's shop.

Surreal had watched the scene unfold, more shocked that Will actually shot the man in his foot.

_Well the kid got 'em after all_, Surreal mused.

"Well, sugar, looks like the hunted became the hunter," she said, trying to contain a fit of rage. Not only had he beaten up the whelp, he'd also made some comments that she was not going to forgive. "You messed with the wrong person. Just so we're straight, ever call me pet again and the last thing you'll feel will be my blade!" With that she turned her back and left the man to tend to the bullet in his foot, all the while keeping her guard up ready to strike the finishing blow if needed.

*******************************

Having run, petrified, all the way through the streets without more than a second glance for Will, Jack had stumbled into the harbour. It was daybreak and people would come out to their fishing boats at any moment. The only thing he could do...was to carry on with what he'd started. He raced aboard the _Kaelas_, waving both pistol and cutlass. An essence of hope rose inside him as he saw there was no captain or her uptight brother anywhere.

"I'm taking over this ship! No smart moves, boys and girls. All I want is to borrow her for one little trip south and then ye can come back and pick up yer captains 'appy as yer like, savvy? I only want one thing from where we're going, anything else I find is yours for the taking. What say you, men?"

********************************

After all the weapons had been sharpened Titan turned to Pintel and Ragetti.

"Cheers guys, that helped me out a lot. I'd best get back to Surreal with these. Do what you wish but we'll be leaving Port Royal soon I think, just keep ya eyes out. If you see a red flag raised it means that we're getting ready to set sail," he said. With that he lifted the bag placed it over his shoulder and left the blacksmiths without a backward glance.

Ragetti looked to Pintel. "Maybe we won't have ta take another boat after all...wot with them bein' so generous and all...wot do ya think?"

"Aye, I think yore right. We'd best get down ter the harbour afore all the people come out and call the guards. Come on!" With that he waddled out onto the street, forgetting completely about the poor unconscious pirate captain inside, and hurried towards the _Kaelas_.

Ragetti followed his friend, hurrying with him back to the docks. They arrived just in time to see Captain Jack Sparrow run aboard the _Kaelas_.

"Oi, wot's ol' Jack up to now?"

Pintel ground to a halt at the sight of the commotion on board the _Kaelas_. "Captain Jack?" he said loudly and with bewilderment. He looked from the ship to Jack's weapons to Ragetti and back round in a repeating circuit of glancing. "Yore back!"

Annoyed at the interruption, Jack turned his head to see the two sidekick-ish pirates standing on the boardwalks. They didn't seem too threatening, and he'd noticed them before. He motioned for them to join the crew.

"Well cam' on then if you're coming!" he called. He looked back at the confused crewmen. "Move ye scabrous dogs! Or do you want the guards to kill us all when that sun comes up over the cliffs? Set the mainsails, lift the anchor, get us out of here!"

Ragetti glanced to Pintel, his face set. They wanted to stick with Jack and get out of Port Royal and this was their chance. Ragetti scampered onto the _Kaelas_ and began to help ready her to leave the port. Making a hasty salute, Pintel scurried after Ragetti and did his best to help get the _Kaelas_ out of the docks.

Jack Sparrow quickly scanned the harbour once more for any signs of young Turner.

"I'm sorry, Will," he said to the waking Port Royal. "Let fortune say whether we meet again soon." He turned and pushed past the grumbling crewmembers up to the helm. After a minute or two, he turned the wheel and sent the _Kaelas_ out to sea. "Faster we go, lads, the sooner we get there and the better to see your rightful captains again, savvy?"

**********************************************

Will reached the docks and stamped his foot. Neither Jack nor the _Kaelas _were anywhere to be seen.

"He's gone," he sighed. Turning to Elizabeth, he held her hands and then hugged her tightly. He spoke quickly, knowing they probably had little time to stay put. "I've been so worried. I couldn't find you. There've been people asking about Jack, and I thought they'd taken you..."

"Taken me?" She couldn't pretend not to be relieved to be in his arms again, but his words caused her more concern than could balance her muddled feelings out. "Will...no one is going to take me..."

She tried to sound reassuring, well aware that she was not doing a very good job of it at all. Inside, she was still cursing Jack. She wanted desperately to ask where he was, and what was going on...but she forced herself to stay silent, perhaps knowing that their time together and in peace could be limited. For now, she was content just to be him and not have to worry that he had just...well...shot someone in the foot.

The eerie quietness of the streets was soon taken over by the sounds of doors banging open and market carts trundling along the cobbles. Feeling somewhat more protected from listening ears by the noise, Will led Elizabeth further through the docks. He tried to mingle them amongst the fishing folk.

"Someone's sent an assassin after Jack," he said. "I think it might've been Norrington, but I don't know for sure. The assassin...she was the woman with the sword to that...man's throat back there. She's been asking a lot of questions. She wants to know who wants Jack dead and why, and she's got it into her head that she should ask the Governor or anyone related to him if they know anything on this matter. Since your father's away, naturally she's been looking for you."

He kept an eye out for the woman in question as he shielded his love from the outside world.

**************************************

Titan found Surreal loitering in the main street. He gave her a quick look to make sure that she was unharmed then walked beside her as they made their way to the _Kaelas_.

"Sooo, did you find out anything interesting?" Titan asked after a long eerie silence. _Something has gotten to her_, he thought as he waited for her to reply.

"Well I know who wants Jack Sparrow dead." She waited a few heartbeats before continuing, "A _former_ Commodore Norrington." She stopped dead and looked at Titan. "I think that maybe I'll give this assignment a miss. I've had enough. Let's go and find a nice island that you lot can drop me off on while you go pirating. I think I need a break." Even as she spoke there was a deep sadness to her voice.

She felt hollow, and hurt. She tried to help out the whelp and he repaid her by running away. Even if she were an assassin, it would be nice if once in a while someone might actually think to help her. All these thoughts were going around in her mind. This was the reason why she seemed so distant and unhappy.

"Surreal, what's wrong? It's not like you to feel depressed." Titan was horrified to see tears form in her eyes. "All right! We'll go find a nice island! Though I would like to know why you're upset, don't try to deny it. There's something wrong. I can tell by your voice."

Surreal resumed walking towards the harbour whilst she ignored Titan's questions. Just as they rounded the last corner, she noticed that the _Kaelas_ was no longer there.

"Where is my ship?" She didn't even bother to hide the fury she felt as she spoke. "Screw what I just said! I'll kill him!"

"Jack Sparrow, you're a dead man!" she snarled out towards the sea.

**************************************

It was fair to say that Leonardo was furious. Not only had he not counted on the presence of the assassin, but he was also extremely confused as to the identity of the girl - other than that she somehow knew the Twerp. Oh - and he'd been shot in the foot. He had waited for the assassin to leave, then sat up. He pulled off his boot and inspected his foot. The bilge rat had pretty much shot off two toes, which clung desperately to the rest of his foot by shreds of skin. He gritted his teeth and finished the job, popping them in his pocket until later when he could spare the time to reattach them. He stood, shakily balancing himself on eight toes, and drew one of the several flintlocks cleverly concealed on his person. He cocked it and opened the door.

"Avast, ye filthy deck-lice! Ol' Leo's got a present f'ye!"

He blew a hole in the back of a random fleeing girl and giggled in his head. It was always funny to watch women fall over at high speeds - there was something innately ungraceful about it that he found hilarious.

***************************************

After Surreal stormed around the harbour twice, as Titan followed meekly, she laid her eyes upon one of the ships - the _HMS Dauntless_.

_Seeing as Jack has taken my ship, I think I'll take this one!_ she thought.

"Titan, what do you say to a little trip?" she asked as she unsheathed Kaetien once again and made her way to the _HMS Dauntless_ without waiting for an answer.

"Oh bloody hell, Surreal," he moaned. He drew out his own sword and followed her, while he kept to the shadows. "I take it you've got a plan?" he whispered in her ear.

She gave Titan a sly smile before she climbed aboard. After a few minutes they had taken over the ship and cast off.

"Well that was pretty easy to say that there was a crew!" she giggled as she stood at the helm. "Let's go see Ms Tia Dalma. I have something I wish to discuss with her. Titan, secure the crew and bring me either the captain, if there is one, or the highest ranking member."

**************************************

Holding Elizabeth close, Will had waited in the quieter back-streets of Port Royal until he thought it safe enough for them to move. He had seen from a distance a very angry Surreal SaDiablo ranting by the harbour after Jack had stolen her ship. To his surprise and partial amusement, he'd then seen the _Dauntless_ pinched along with most of its crew that had only gone on board presumably to give her a little polishing up. Without Governor Swann around, him having sailed off to England on another vessel, there was no real reason for a journey.

_The next Commodore's going to be in for a good shouting at_, he thought.

Indeed, several of the harbour guards were having a blazing and rather funny row on the docks. Will led Elizabeth back towards the centre of town.

"It looks as though we're safe for now. Though that crazy vagabond might still be around. I'd like very much if you were to stay with me. Would you mind us returning to the smithy? I have some work I promised to do. Under your eyes I'll most likely work all the harder." He smiled softly.

At this, Elizabeth couldn't help but smile, though it was a sad one at best. He was back, she was happy about it...and yet, at the same time she was terrified about everything that was going on, which she was now just barely beginning to understand.

"I'm sure you would," she began, then clearing her light voice with a slight sigh, holding back a cough of muffled impatience, "But do you really think I need the _protection_? If those people were after Jack..."

She stopped herself, sighing and shaking her head slightly. She forced a smile upon her lips, and looked up at him with as much mustered cheer as she could force.

"But, of course," she continued hastily, as though she had not made her previous observation, "I'll accompany you. Maybe I could even be of assistance?" This was more of a joke, and she was certain that they both knew it. She knew no more about working at the smithy as any woman in her 'class' did. But she smiled again, this time for real, and followed him without complaint through the streets towards the smithy.

**************************************

Leonardo reached the harbour just in time to find absolutely no one there whatsoever. While he knew that, having taken the scenic route (three taverns, two shops, three houses, a hanging, four fights, two women and a toe-reattachment), it was doubtful he would have caught up with everyone. He was still slightly disappointed to have even missed the Twerp. Come to think of it, he was also a little embarrassed to have not caught the Twerp. He plodded along the decking, hoping to see anyone who could point him in the right direction. Suddenly, a small man in official looking clothes yelled at him from behind.

"You there! Pirate! I hereby arrest you for being a pirate! I have seen your pirating "mateys" leave and I now know you to be one of their crew! Do not deny your offence! I saw them and one of them was dressed just like you! Now come here and let me put these chains on you!"

Leonardo peered at him, utterly bemused.

"Ye said me... uh... mateys left?"

"Move slowly towards me, sea-dog, and I will not harm you!"

"Uh... aye, what of me crew? Exactly which direction 'ave they gone in?"

"Pirate!!! Come h-ulllgghfftt!!!"

The funny little man was cut short by Leonardo darting forward and whacking him round the head which his forearm.

"Which way di' they' go, ye dirty bilge rat? Which way an' on which ship?"


	16. Nice Place For A Picnic?

**Chapter XVI: Nice Place For a Picnic?**

Albannon walked smartly to the docks at Tortuga, cheery as ever and whistling a tune. He had no ship, no real plan, but he had it in his mind that it would all sort itself out. He deserved success and he would bloody get it. When he arrived he cast his cigar upon the floor, leant upon his cane and let the winds of the open sea fill his being. He felt like a hero...he was in command of himself and soon the world would be his for the taking. He wondered if Santiago was still Spanish, if the Florida Keys had changed hands yet again. He was set in his mind…he would have a port of his own.

He strolled leisurely down the docks observing each ship in turn, and the guard that protected it, then he noticed one ship that was quite different from the rest...not a guard in sight...in terrible condition and most prominent, large black tattered sails. He read its name: "The Black Pearl". Lo and Behold he had found Mr Smarrow's ship, but the fellow was nowhere to be seen. Had he been captured? Still, he thought, this fellow wouldn't mind if he borrowed it for a while, since he would be using it to find it's owner. It would need some repairs though...

_I'll bodge something up._

He smiled and strolled aboard.

********************************************************************

Out in the vast ocean, Oaxacoco sailed slowly, cautiously and very incompetently. The oars hurt his hands and the sails were in terrible condition. _Yawn!_

"Getyl o etyl mo caatiytu fu man bac...o...ite-aem!"

He pondered awhile...crying his woes out into the night hoping for another vessel for company, thus he sailed out into the night, drums-a-playing singing at the top of his voice, perhaps a dark summoning ritual...or just simple fun.

"O! A-ah!O! Tooltacyi-O."

*********************************************************************

Will arrived at the smithy he was so fond of and immediately saw something was amiss. For a start, the door had been jimmied open from the outside during the night. He reached for his sword but rolled his eyes when he remembered that Ragetti had taken it. Keeping Elizabeth behind him, he crept into the building and looked about. Several ropes and weapons had been removed, and there was a terrible mess of splinters and sawdust. Light poured from a gaping hole in the shop roof and onto the dull surface of an anvil, next to which lay the still form of Señor Hulliver.

"What on earth? Sir!"

Will rushed over to the comatose captain and propped him upright, slapping him a little roughly on the cheek.

"What...what on _earth_..." Elizabeth could hardly force herself to form coherent words when she stepped into the shop behind Will. The first thing that drew her attention was, naturally, the gaping hole that adorned the roof--but when her attention went to the unconscious man lying on the ground it stayed there. "Oh dear..." Somehow, this probably shouldn't have surprised her. Assassins, stolen ships, new enemies...with everything that had been happening lately, she should have figured that they would not be able to enter the shop without stumbling upon something else strange and new.

"Is he all right?" asked Elizabeth in some forced concern, watching as Will slapped the man's cheek in an effort to get him to wake, all the while looking about for something she could use to help; maybe a bucket with some water, and a cloth... "Will, do you _know _this man?"

Unable to rouse the man, Will sighed and moved across the smithy to tidy up some of the rubble in order for him to start work.

"Not really. I'm not certain he's of respectable background either, but...well...work's work. His name's Hulliver. I'm supposed to be making a sword for him. Might as well get started while he's out I suppose."

He set about lighting the furnace and placed some tools ready to heat.

*****************************************************************

"Oh," said Jack, as the dark cliffs loomed into sight. "That journey was a lot shorter than I expected."

Yes the cliffs were dark, even as the sun had crept a fair way into the morning's sky. Not even divine intervention would make this place glow.  
Sparrow carefully glided the _Kaelas_ into a precarious cave at the foot of the cliffs, atop which lurked the awful prison.

"Someone 'and me a grapple, I'm going in."

Ragetti really didn't know what he was getting into when he joined the crew of the stolen, er... commandeered _Kaelas._ Captain Jack had sailed them to a most frightening place. Ragetti thought he was afraid of hanging around Port Royal, but that was nothing compared to the terror he felt about this terrible place. He was shocked to learn that Jack wanted to go _inside_ the dreadful sea-side prison. He had asked for a grapple. Ragetti picked one up, but hesitated in giving it over.

"Wot do you want to go in there for?"

Jack looked up at the towering rocks dubiously.

"It's not that I _want_ to go in there, so much as it might be necessary. I've 'eard a rumour that some men what got picked up by the Turks got thrown in 'ere over claims of madness. Apparently, these men were found afloat on the remains of what was once their ship, rantin' and raving about sea monsters, and creatures that are half man, half ocean bed. What business is that to me? Well, I want to ask 'em a few questions."

He cast a glance over the grapple in Ragetti's hand and snatched it off him, without too much force.

"Assuming they're still alive, that is."

Jack looped a rope through the grapple and tied it fast. He swung the climbing implement over his head and let go, catching a relatively high crag.

"I shan't be long, but suffice to say, I might not come back the way I went in."

Ragetti gulped and rubbed his wooden eye fretfully as he watched Jack climb up the cliff. What were they to do if he didn't come back? But then Ragetti remembered that is was _Captain Jack Sparrow_ we're talking about - he'd find a way to get out in one piece.

At the top of the precipice, Jack pulled up the rope quickly and wrapped it over his shoulder. His back pressed to the wall, he waited upon the awful platform where prisoners were frequently left in cages for the carrion crows to feed upon. He grimaced at an unfortunate cadaver in the cage nearest to him, its eyesockets glaring in his direction. Fortunately, the guards swapped over within the next few minutes and he took his chance to slip inside. Carefully, he trotted into the depths of the prison.

Eventually he reached a guard chamber, where both men who were taking a break, or men supposed to be guarding but having a break anyway, were clustered. The changeover for the platform was already taking place. Sparrow flattened himself into the shadows, narrowly escaping detection as one of them passed, followed shortly by a second. Thinking on his feet, he crept after the tail-end guard and rapped him smartly over the head with the loop of the grapple.

Jack slapped a palm over the dazed guards mouth, spun him around to strip his jacket uniform off, and then, sadly but necessarily, pushed the poor man out of the nearest window. A faint, foreign scream flew the length of the cliff.

"Sorry, mate, 'ad to be done," Jack sighed as he stuffed his beloved hat into the corner of the stairwell beside the grapple rope. For the first time in many a year, he removed his bandanna too and, brushing a hand over the dusty floor, sullied his face with the grime.  
His disguise complete, he strolled into the guard-room, hoping that the other change-over wouldn't return looking for his partner too soon.

Another soul on board wasn't too happy about Jack's perilous departure. Pintel stepped closer to his friend and muttered fearfully, "I 'opes 'e won't be too long. I don't fink these crewmen look too 'appy since we left Port Royal and their captain. Them's might turn narsty." He whimpered, and glanced sidelong at a growling pirate.

Ragetti also glanced at the other pirates. He knew they wouldn't trust himself and Pintel very much. "Looks like we're stuck 'tween a rock an' an 'ard place." he said quietly.

Pintel nodded. "Aye, maybe we's should play real nice like, so as not to cause any unwanted tension. Eh, you could cook 'em some of yore famous fruit-basket things. That always cheered up the ol' Pearl crew a bit." He was really starting to miss the Aztec gold at this point.

He wasn't the only one. "Well, I would...but you havn' seen all o' the food in the captain's cabin. I thin' the last thing they need is more fruit." Ragetti frowned. " 'Sides, where would I get the fruit from anyway?"

Shrugging, Pintel answered with a little bit of sarcasm. "I dunno, do I? 'Ave yer checked below deck fer a galley or sumfink while I was asleep larst time?" His thoughts had by now gone beyond the necessity for making fruit baskets for the crew. Now, he was just picking little arguments to keep himself sane and partially in the hope that their conversation would bore the socks off the restless crew enough to leave them alone.

"Nuh. I wos too busy chasing me eye aroun' the deck." Ragetti rubbed said wooden eye again.

Looking sympathetically at his friend, Pintel said, "You'll 'ave to be more careful with it. You knows they charge a bundle fer eyepatches these days."

A thought struck him.

"'Ere, I just realised we ain't seen the rest o' Jack's crewmen anywhere. I wonder where the Pearl's got to." He grinned slyly. "I'll bet that assassin nabbed 'im out o' some other port and 'e left the Pearl in some dock somewheres. Picture it...that wunnerful ship all alone wid no captain what guides 'er. Course 'is crew mighta nicked orf with it, but you never know."

A part of him was screaming that his scheming was foolish. All he wanted really was to have somewhere to belong, and sailing with Jack was probably the best time he'd had in a long while. But he couldn't help but have his piratey dreams. The chance to outwit Sparrow...and become famous himself!

Ragetti couldn't help but smile. "T'would be great if we could nick the _Pearl_...we'd be famous if we did it from right under ol' Jack's nose! 'Sides... we's almost got a type of right to have the _Pearl_. We were on 'er longer than Jack ever wos."

"Ain't that the truth!" said Pintel. "Maybe we can give 'im the slip later on or sumfink, once we weasel out of 'im where the Pearl is. Den we can just find a way to get there before 'e does and bob's your uncle...we'll have the fastest ship in the ocean all to ourselves." He sighed and looked up anxiously at the prison. "When we's rich, one o' the first things I'm going to buy is one o' them posh pocket watches. Then I'll 'ave a right to complain at people bein' slow."

"An' I can get me a good glass eye." Ragetti said wistfully.

With the most grand fortune, these guards were so lacking in intellect, they easily believed Jack's claims:

"_Selam! Bir gelmek beri bakanlik nin tukuklu refah_," he said confidently, however poor the grammatical structure and however probably incorrect the vocabulary was. "_Nerede ar bunlar deli bu kadar bagirmak 'Davy Jones'?_" *

He gave the cruellest grin he could muster up.

"Onlar kismis durmak davrais ile, savvy?"**

After a few puzzled moments where they tried to work out what he'd attempted to say, one of the guards gave a laugh that in our language would have been something like 'hur hur hur'. This man rose from his seat and beckoned to Jack, before leading him through the prison passageways. Jack was left outside a draughty cell, which two men inhabited. One lay unmoving on the floor, the other cowered in a corner, his face bloodied.

Sure the guard had gone, Sparrow hissed to the conscious prisoner. "Oi, which one o' you can tell me about sea monsters?"

The cowering man looked blearily at him.

"Ain't no such thing...as s-sea monsters," he said.

"That's just the torture talking," Jack replied. "I know what you're in here for, and I know you ain't mad. I ain't gonna lie and say I can save you, but your help might save other cursed wretches such as yourselves."

"They're not r-real," the poor man stammered. "N-no such thing as monsters. No such thing as Davy Jones."

Jack gripped the bars as if he wished to bend them apart, reach inside and shake the miserable fool. "But there is! You've seen him, I know. You escaped him. What do you know about him? Speak, for the sake of every sea-loving man, and help me. You must know something...a weakness?"

The man held back a sob, but at the word 'weakness', his eyes lit fiercely. He crawled towards the bars.

"Yes, yes, there is something. Him not like what we did, not at all. We found out...we found out..."

"What?" Jack whispered impatiently, one eye on the corridor.

"A key...a chest...he didn't want no one knowing about it. Precious to him. You have to have...the key...and the chest."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "I don't suppose you've got either of these little trinkets on your person?"

The bedraggled man rummaged around in the rags of his clothes and passed a bundle of cloth through the bars.

"The key!" he said.

Jack eagerly took the cloth and let it unfold. He was disappointed, because nothing fell out from it. The prisoner pointed at the cloth and insisted it was the key. Looking more closely at the cloth, Jack saw a charcoal scribble of a bizarre "double" key on its surface.

"Oh."

After concealing the piece of cloth about his person, Jack double-checked that the man didn't have any other information worth knowing. The assumed lifeless man gave a sudden jerk and a long groan before slumping back unconscious.

"What's wrong wiv 'im?" Sparrow wondered, his lip curling in distaste.

"'E's starving," croaked the more bloody prisoner. "They don't take him out, the guards won't touch 'im. They say he's cursed. One of the sea monsters, they grabbed him. He got, he got the _Spot!_"

The man stifled himself as if the very mention of the symbol would bring about his death. Not a second later, there came shouts from the corner at the end of the passageway.

"Bugger, time to go methinks," Jack muttered. "Sincere apologies to you and your misfortunes, mate, but you don't happen to know any secret doors hereabouts, aye?"

His acquaintance mustered enough energy to shoot him a terribly cold look.

"Thought not. Plan B it is then."

Reaching inside his boot, Jack pulled out a thin stick of charcoal - something he normally used to create the black circles around his eyes. Hastily, he drew a thick spot on his left palm and returned the charcoal to its nest. That done, Jack took in a deep breath, then ran screaming towards the guards in Han Solo style. He held his palm outstretched so they could see the black mark and chased them out of his way.

"Move! Move! I'm highly contagious!" he bellowed at them as he passed, not bothering to translate. "Out of the way!"

He bolted up the stairs, grabbing what effects he'd left behind on the way. Having reached the macabre bridge where he'd begun, he readied himself to abseil. Unfortunately, some of the guards had settled on a braver approach and were rapidly gaining on him. No time to lose, he grabbed a coffin that happened to be propped up near the doorway and tied the grapple rope around it. Then he coiled part of the rope over and under his legs as he sat astride the coffin like a go-kart. The grapple-end in his hands, Jack glanced nervously behind him as the Turks swarmed into view.

With a heroic "AAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaghh!", Jack shoved forwards off the cliff and plummeted towards the rock-strewn ocean. Narrowly missing certain death, Sparrow and his mini sailing vessel splashed around the cliff edge towards the _Kaelas_. Using the grapple rope to prevent the waves from dashing him on the rocks or drag him out to sea, he then proceeded to cry out to all on board.

"OI! A little help down 'ere?"

His thoughts disrupted by the shouts from below, Pintel waddled to the starboard bulwark and peered over.

"My unsainted auntie, it's the Cap'n!"

Seeing as none of the _Kaelas_'s actual crew were willing to bother, he scurried off to find an extra rope, which he threw down to Jack and stood back for him to climb back on board. No sooner had Jack appeared before them, he asked excitedly, "Should we hoist up that coffin you was on? Must be full of expensive treasures from that highly secure place, eh Cap'n?"

After wiping most of the dust from his face and reattaching his bandanna, followed by his hat, Jack set about processing the question asked. He noticed the communal scowl coming from the direction of Surreal's crew.

"Er...no, I'm afraid that was just a little stop-off. A side-trip as it were," he said slowly. "But...! Now we have our heading where the valuable trinket lies." He shouted cheerily to all on board. "Change course in a that-away direction."

His hand waved vaguely towards the north-east, the open ocean. Then he frowned.

"Or maybe that way..."

Now he pointed south-east.

"No, no, never mind. Go with what I said first off. North-east it is, and then we'll head straight back to Port Royal with the spoils, hand over the ship back to its proper owners, along with the side order. 'Ow's that sound?" he asked everyone, grinning widely enough to show more of his silver caps than usual.

Ragetti's good eye gleamed as he helped the ship sail in the general direction Jack wanted. "I wonder wot valuable trinket we're off ta find?"

* * *

* Hopefully translates roughly as: 'Hi! I come from ministry of prisoner welfare. Where are these madman that shout out "Davy Jones"?'

** 'They must be dealt with, savvy?'


	17. Voodoo Wisdom

**Chapter XVII: Voodoo Wisdom  
**

Surreal made her way up the river to Tia Dalma's shack.

"I never thought I'd be here again needing help," Surreal said more to herself.

She remembered the first time she needed Tia Dalma's help. It had been a few years ago. She had been hired by Jonathon Edwards to assassinate Matthew Brooks. Jonathon had told her to go see a sorceress by the name of Tia Dalma. When she had arrived here that fateful night she found out some disturbing truths about herself. That was properly the first assassination that she never completed. She did, however, find Matthew Brooks, but only to help him go underground. She kept him out of harm's way, and to this day he should still be alive though she promised never to return. So she had no idea.

"Titan, guard the boat. This won't take long," she said. As she climbed out of the boat, she whispered, "I hope."

Surreal knocked on the door then proceeded to enter.

Tia looked up at the sound, a slow smile spreading across her dark lips.

"Surreal SaDiablo. Da assassin with a heart returns."

"Tia Dalma." Surreal nodded her head and made her way towards one of the chairs at the table, but she waited for Tia to indicate that she could be seated. "I need some help, yet again!" She waited for an answer before she told her what the problem was.

"Take a seat," Tia said. She leaned back in her own chair. "What do you need this time... more help with an... assignment?"

"For once, no. I need help to locate my ship. It was commandeered by a Jack Sparrow. He is the assignment, though I don't wish him dead. I just want my ship. Can you help me or not?" she asked once she had taken the seat that was offered.

Tia smirked at the mention of Jack Sparrow's name. "So why did you come to me? You must have gotten a ship somehow to get here. Can you not assume where he would be and hunt him down?"

"I have no idea where he's gone, that's why I came. Plus I don't actually want _him_, I just want my ship." Surreal decided that she best tell Tia Dalma the real reason why she didn't want Jack. "I'm going to quit being an assassin. I can't take it any more. Ever since Matthew Brooks, I seem to have lost my hunger for it. Will you help me get my ship back, please?"

Tia gave Surreal a long, but not unkind look. She had long suspected Surreal would consider quitting her profession. "Yes, I will help," she said at last. "You have payment?"

Surreal got up from the chair. "I presume that fear is still the payment?" she asked as she made her way to the door.

"Fear will not get you your precious _Kaelas_ back, Surreal," Tia said. "Do you tink it was fear that got Jack Sparrow him _Pearl_ back? No." Tia leaned forward. "Tell me this, and answer me wit da truth: do you feel you are bound by blood to your ship?"

Surreal stopped and glanced at Tia Dalma. Of all the questions she could have asked why did she have to ask that, Surreal mused. "Well, sugar, that depends entirely on what you mean by that," she answered. After a small pause she continued, "You see, I feel as though I am tied to the _Kaela_s by blood, but I am not tied to the clan that made the _Kaelas_. She was handed down by the leader of the Dea La Mon, which I am sure that you already know. So, in all honesty, no I am not bound to the _Kaelas_ by blood, as my blood is not of the Dea La Mon. Even if I was raised by them." She took a deep breath.

"Hmmm..." Tia mused. She shrugged. "Your love for da ship should still work." She stood up and walked over to a shelf from which she removed a jar filled with stones. She fished one large one out. She held it tightly in her hand and beckoned Surreal to come closer. "Come here an' give me your hand."

Surreal walked over to Tia Dalma, and held out her hand.

"What is that for?" Surreal asked as she nodded to the stone in Tai's hand.

Tia grabbed Surreal's wrist in a surprisingly strong grip and placed the stone in her hand. Then she picked up a knife that was resting on the table.

"This will help you find your precious _Kaelas_," she explained.

Then without warning, she pricked Surreal's finger with the knife. At the first sign of blood, she pushed Surreal's hand into a fist around the stone, making sure to get blood on it. Her grip on Surreal's wrist kept the assassin from escaping. Tia muttered in a language Surreal didn't recognize and let go of her wrist.

"Now you'll be able to find your ship. Da stone will grow hot when you get close."

"Ouch!" she complained when Tia grabbed her wrist. "Erm, Tia..... you couldn't help me with a general direction could you?" Surreal asked cautiously, unsure of what Tia's response would be.

Tia just smiled mysteriously. "Now the direction is in your heart. " Noting Surreal's expression, she continued. "However... if it is a more direct answer you seek..." Tia sat down again. "Knowing Jack as I do, he'll have gone on a hunt for what he seeks to save him soul. Failing dat, your crew will probably have risen up against 'im and day're on the hunt for you. Day'll go to where day know you were last. Go there and you may get lucky. If not..." she shrugged. "Use da stone."

"Thank you, Tia. Hopefully the next time I come to visit I won't be an assassin," she said as she headed for the door. "Although I am curious to how you know Jack Sparrow. Would you be kind enough to share?" Surreal asked.

Tia smiled. She had some fond memories of Jack... and some not so fond ones. All of them were personal though. "Jack and I go back a long time. I helped him find da ting he wants most. I have no doubt da wind will blow 'im back to me one day, seeking more advice - jus' like you."

"See you around."

Tia Dalma nodded a good bye to Surreal. "Good luck," she said.

Surreal made her way out the cabin to where Titan waited for her. "Let's go back to Port Royal. I have a feeling the crew might head back there." She looked back to the cabin. "Goodbye, my friend, I do hope that I live long enough to see you again," she said under her breath.

Tia Dalma smirked to herself. Soon the world may have one less assassin. That wasn't necessarily a bad thing. She genuinely hoped Surreal fared well and found her ship. Tia sighed softly to herself and moved to the back of her shack to polish a snakeskin.

*******************************************************************

A boat freshly arrived into Port Royal... passage had been arranged for a rather young and wealthy bachelor, and the Governor had prepared a welcome party. A young, rather sly looking man, sidled off the ship. He was wearing city clothes, He immediately felt at the height of fashion. Trumpets sounded. Whimsey smiled. _Obviously I am well loved already here._ He swished his cape in the manner of a dashing hero...and plumped his feet onto dry land.

The Governor's representatives greeted him with excitement (perhaps another potential match for the Governor's daughter). Whimsey greeted them and inquired after accommodation. He was to stay in the best rooms available, (thanks to his father's letter) and once settled he would make his way in this bold new world.

After settling into his rooms, Elpshelm (Elps or Whimso at school) whisked himself into town, skipping all the way, viewing all the attractions. He laughed joyfully - his life had now begun. _To hunt pirates, solve mysteries and ultimately discover some new land and some new vegetable...I must shop for armaments._

"How exciting!" he exclaimed, not noticing the elderly gentleman he had knocked aside in his excitement. "To the local blackies!" (He means blacksmith, not some racial slur).

***********************************

"Gasp!" exclaimed Hulliver, as he woke, rubbing a very large, very anvil-shaped bump on his head. "I can't see, but that detail aside I'm not in need of medical assistance at all. Always a novelty. Well, I'm starving. Is there anybody here with food and/or drinks? Let's have a jamboree. Assist me!"

Very nearly dropping his hammer on his foot, Will looked up in alarm at the woken Hulliver. He placed the sword-in-progress to one side and rushed over to help him up.

"Your pardons, sir, I returned to find you out cold and my smith ransacked. Were you attacked?" He was astonished that the man was very little harmed. "There may be some bread and ale in the cellar, possibly some harder stuff that Mr Brown's always at," Will added.

"Attacked?" cried Hulliver, deciding at once to use as much voice as he could, to make up for lost time during his sleep, "Attacked? Perhaps, but only slightly. I shall investigate this cellar immediately, and once I'm well supped, we'll see to these swords. Three ought really to be enough, for my skeletal crew and my good self. And a fourth for emergencies and flashy sword-play, assuming I find the time to teach myself that. But now, my thirst to quench!"

Hulliver walked purposefully, following his nose toward the cellar, but stopped when he fell over a small pile of cannon-balls.  
"Perhaps, until my sight, senses and comfort with my surroundings return, you might direct me toward this cellar, young master Turner. You'll have to direct by speech, for my eyes are rather blurred from what I hope transpires to be only a temporary concussion. Perhaps exclaiming 'warmer' for any near move to the cellar door, and 'colder' for any move away. And, if you'd be so kind 'you're about to fall down the stairs' should that turn out to be the case also."

Will attempted to guide his customer in the fashion he'd asked for, but after several of these attempts leading only into an anvil, a donkey, and almost the smithy furnace... he gave up and took the captain's arm and led him to the cellar steps.

"Pardon my asking, but when you describe your crew to be _skeletal_, would you clarify that you mean them to be scrawny and hungry?"  
He cast a glance to see if Elizabeth were thinking the same.

"Only if shopping duties have been neglected in my absence. Nay, sir, they're fine and sturdy men - perhaps sturdy might be an apposite epithet. No, señor, they are a skeleton crew insomuch as they are reduced to a bare minimum. Would you believe it, we've been running a single ship with only three sailors, my good self included in that count, manning the deck, the sails and any other parts which have for the moment slipped my mind. They told me such activity was impossible, but - I'll tell you this - we hardly ever crash.

"Now, would you happen to have any non-alcoholic grog or equivalent? A crust of bread would be adequately recompensed, especially if it contained suitably delicate ingredients. I do enjoy a fine meal," replied Hulliver, clutching what he hoped was his ship's journal to his side, as if for warmth.

Will was astonished. "Three sailors you say? That's remarkable." He hurried off to rummage through the cellar supplies and resurfaced with a bottle of Brown's best whiskey and some sort of tough cake with raisins in. Offering these items to Hulliver, he said, "This is all I can find at the moment. The stores are in need of a restock."

Lord Whimsey skulked in the door, not sure whether he was welcome or not. He looked around and saw a pair of gentlemen chatting:

"Excuse me sirs, I have monies and the wish to purchase some armour and weaponry, I pay and tip exceedingly well. Also, if you could help me find a crew to hire, I would be most obliged." He stood in the dirty room, thin, pasty, prim and proper and smiled expecting the best of service.

Will jumped with fright at the sound of another customer. He spun on his heel and looked towards the door as he processed what he had been asked. "My apologies, sir, I am afraid little armour is made here. I think there is an armoury still operating two streets across. However, I am proud to say there should not be finer swords available than here. I am a little behind on this gentleman's work," he gestured to Señor Hulliver. "But if you bear with me, I shall do my best to attend to you." He hurried back to the furnace and anvil where he resumed shaping Hulliver's swords.

"Might I say," remarked a still-dazed Hulliver, "that it sounds like some fine workmanship you're at, master Turner. Surely the finest service I've had the auricular delight to witness in many long weeks. You wouldn't think it, but I'm oft an impatient fellow, but have waited here a good long while (by my own trappings, not this establishment's) rapt in attention while I awaited what I don't doubt will be the choicest swords (though I must admit it will be quite a relief to stretch my legs by the sea once the requested swords are presented to me.

"And, master Turner, little armour? Whatever was it that I had the misfortune to (repeatedly) trip over, but a ten-minute since? It felt very much like armour to the more habitually bruised of my legs, and in fair quantity."

Elpshelm was not accustomed to being refused anything. On account of his father's money, he had been given almost anything he needed. He sulked for a while when he realised he had little hope of persuading a quick top-rate service immediately and alas he would have to wait for this other gentleman.

"I can wait, sirs, but the quicker the action the quicker the pay. Whilst I wait may I indulge in a little light conversation. What is your name, fellow with the curly hair? And you, smithy, I assume you are Mr Brown the blacksmith. I am looking to hunt a few pirates and bring home some prizes and perhaps a medal for my mantle-piece. I am looking for a ship, a captain and some men, glory and money to them all - I have a small trick to lure some pirates in."

Will worked hastily as he spoke, taking care not to shower his customers with sparks from his battering hammer. "My apologies for the wait, sirs. I have near completed Señor Hulliver's items whilst he was out c-…out. I am afraid the only armour about this place is reserved for the Governor's guard. Armour is also Mr Brown's speciality."

He looked to the newest arrival. "Indeed, sir, I am not Mr Brown but his co-worker. The name's Turner, Will Turner. As for talk of pirates, there have been few daring to tread this town since the events of a few months past. Of course, one or two fools wander in and out before the guards catch them, but these are dangerous times for the devils of the sea. Many a man wishes to gain the honour associated with the capture of a pirate."

Will smirked inwardly but not a flicker was shown on his face.

"New stranger, might I introduce myself," quod Hulliver, "I am, and ever shall be, señor Grigori Hulliver. Your talk inspires me, I must say, and, piratical gold in sight, I might well make to you something of an admission." Hulliver lowered his voice by a number of decibels and nine whole octaves, and leant conspiratorially close to the esquired fellow who was, doubtless, shortly to introduce himself. "I am, as occasion demands, a captain. A captain with a ship. A sharp ship, a swift, swish, ship, sent often from isle to isle and faring fine on a sunny day as in a storm, which is to say, very fine indeed. I have men on board - enough to manage the boards, keep the sails billowing, row me about. Should you desire, I could quite well transport you where needed, and indulge in as much of a hunt as would please your vocally palatable self.

"In fact," continued Hulliver, "now that my addled brain comes around to processing it, your voice seems mighty familiar. You are not, perchance, Lord Elpshelm Whimsey? Such would be an astounding coincidence. Oh, do not assume that I've heard your reputation or met you in person. Rather, I once heard somebody of that name and your voice make a long speech on his ancestry while I was hiding in a cupboard. Not hiding from you, should you be Lord Whimsey, nor hiding from Lord Whimsey should he be anyone other than yourself. No, I was hiding from a terrible, villainous, scurvy pirate whom I later vanquished, having learnt a great deal about the truths of life from the facts of his demise."

At this, Hulliver stopped talking, clutched his ship's log (that is to say, a book, not a chunk of wood) tight to his bosom, and opened his ear.

Whimsey was taken a little aback by the torrent of information just hurled in his direction. He straightened his lapels and said:

"My dear sir, I have given many lectures upon my lineage, I was compelled to do so as a child. I cannot tell you what a loathsome bore that was. My father often made me speak of uncle Hubert and auntie Gresbe. Perchance was either of those in the speech you heard? If so sir you are quite the ample hider. I would very much welcome any assistance you could render me, for a large sum of money of course... I look forward to hunting some pirate, and perhaps finding my estranged brother. Captured by pirates about ten or fifteen years ago, but he's not important. Renounced the name of Whimsey, can you believe it!"


	18. Out Of Time

**A/N: **In comes mass posting with oneself. Davy Jones now enters the RPG, under me own control. Apologies if the accent goes a bit awry.

**Chapter XVIII: Out Of Time**

It had been a few hours since they'd left the outskirts of the Turkish prison. Jack had driven the majority of Surreal's crew completely round the bend, both literally and figuratively. Every few dozen miles, he would open up his little compass, mutter something and then ask for a change in course. Jack Sparrow had asked for one too many things. At last for the umpteenth time, he had ordered another north-west turn. Of course he was the one at the helm, but speedier direction involves the workings of the sails too. The mutinous, annoyed crew stopped and turned to glare at him.

The one called Stubleg Morgan shouted, "We're fed up o' you, Sparrow. Agree to us returning to Port Royal, or you'll be tastin' my steel."

Jack sucked his teeth, not looking anyone in the eyes. "Much as I'd not doubt the delectability of your blade, mate, is that really how you're all feeling?"

"AYE!" was the grumpy reply from the original _Kaelas_ crewmembers.

Jack sighed. "Your funeral, lads, and girls if there are any. Fine, we can go back if that's the way you want it. I'll agree I led you around a few circles and such, but I swear to you, if we go back now, we're as like to find out that the whereabouts of our treasure was in fact somewhere where we were right on top of."

Far beneath the ocean waves, something had caught the irresistible scent of irony. With an ear-splitting roar, the gargantuan bulk of the _Flying Dutchman_ erupted through the surface of the waves and crashed down alongside the now dwarfish-looking _Kaelas_. Water spouting out of every cannon and porthole, she hissed like an immense weed-covered fountain. Swarming on her decks were the foul and terrible crewmen, every one slimy and barnacled with sea creatures for faces, each brandishing ocean-fashioned weapons. At the head of them all and closest to the rails, the legendary captain, Davy Jones, glared down maliciously at the ship below.

Ragetti's jaw dropped in shock and fear, his eyes wide. He tried to say something, but all that came out were a series of gasps. He had heard tales of the _Flying Dutchman_, but he'd never believed them. Ironic, considering he also hadn't believed in the Aztec Curse and look where that led him.

As the rush of foam and spray settled behind him, Jack blinked a few times, still in a frozen stance. He turned as pale as his Caribbean tan would allow, then slowly pivoted to see the monstrous ship that had appeared.

"That's...int'resting?"

Jones vanished from the deck of the _Dutchman_ and melted through the rails of the _Kaelas_. Many of his men followed after, each one marking and outnumbering the crew on board the smaller vessel.

But Sparrow they had left for him.

Jones stomped on his one leg and...one peg...up to the ship's current captain and towered over him. Harsh, watery eyes glared into the squirrelish brown of the pirate's.

"Thirrrteen years, Jack Sparrow. Your time of serrrvice is overrdue and ai _will_ have mai payment."

Jack gulped and leant back, his face pulling squeamishly at the curling mass of tentacles that meandered near his beard. He smiled nervously up at Jones. "Well...it's funny you should mention that...see, it's like this-," he began, his palms outstretched in pleading for the _Dutchman_'s captain to be patient and hear him out.

Not best pleased at a pair of filthy pirate hands waving about in his face, Jones was even less thrilled to see a mock version of his trademark Black Spot on Jack's palm. Snarling, he clasped his great crab claw about Sparrow's throat and lifted him bodily off the deck.

"Dare yew mock me, Sparrow? Your contrract is binding and final, and ye will serrve or suffer mai wrrath!"

Trying to prise enough breathing space between his Adam's apple and the crushing crustacean limb, Jack choked out a response.

"Chest!"

Jones's grip loosened a little.

"Your chest, is in danger," Jack gasped. "Kill me and there'll be no knowing how to prevent such a problem."

Boiling with anger, Jones continued to glare at Jack, eyes darting around the pirate's face for any sign of untruth. He let go of Jack's throat but only to instead lift him by the lapels of his coat.

"Hwhat do yew know about mai chest?" he snarled.

Jack took in a deep breath. If this was going to work, he'd have to have all his wits about him and tell almost entirely no lies.

"Someone's after it," he said.

_Not a bad start. Not as though I'm lying_, he thought.

"There's an item what can show a person exactly what he or she wants most in the world. Should said item fall into the wrong hands, they'd know where your bonny little chest is and 'ave no trouble finding it and using it for their own purposes. Now...I happen to know where this particular object is and if you'll only put me down, escort me aboard your ship somewhere more private, we can come to some sort of arrangement...and I'll lay the troublemaking implement in your hands, er...claws...sea-creature-grabbing things...aye?"

He forced another impish smile.

"If I'm lying, you can go ahead and come after me. Any deal we make will be void if I ain't telling you the truth. What 'ave you got to lose?"

"Ai will hear your proposal," Jones answered, reluctantly. He was not about to let himself be wrapped around anyone's little finger, however. He glanced about at the intermingled _Dutchman/Kaelas_ crewmen. "Back tae the Dutchman," he ordered. "Maccus, bring that one aboarrd." He pointed his free squid-like hand at Stubleg Morgan. "He's compensation should anything go wrrong," Jones snorted at Sparrow before wrenching him along to the deck of his vast ship.

Ragetti was not happy. It seemed like his only chance of getting out of this situation had gone, along with Jack on the _Dutchman_. He did consider himself lucky though that neither he nor Pintel were chosen to go with them.

"I think a change o' plan is needed," he said to Pintel. "I reckon...if he can convince them to go to Tortuga an' let us go before they go off in search o' their captain... we may still 'ave a shot at findin' the _Pearl_."

Pintel nodded, still trembling with fear from what had happened.

"Don't look like he...that is, Davy, Cap'n Jones, wants much to do with us. Better we get out of 'is tentacles afore we do sumfing to annoy him."  
No sooner had he spoken these words, there was a soft 'schting' of metal and a blade pressed against his throat. The crewmember elected to take over the_ Kaelas _after Stubleg had been dragged aboard the _Dutchman_ glared at the two unwanted pirates.

"We sail for Port Royal, back to find Captain Titan. He may decide upon the fate of Morgan if he's alive upon our return. Move!"

Pintel dared not even gulp but made a hasty salute.

"Aye, aye cap'n?" he whimpered.

The _Kaelas_ turned swiftly about and made course for Port Royal.

****************************************

In the harrowing control centre of the _Dutchman_ that was Jones's cabin, Jack Sparrow found himself at considerable pains trying not to touch the various items in the room. Mossy candelabra dripped at him, curious pipes spiked out from all over the place as though they were extensions from the vast organ at the far reaches of the quarters. He couldn't see where they connected though. Restraining himself from spinning a coral-crusted globe on a small table, he forced himself to look unafraid as he once more met the eyes of the legendary man-monster.

"I will trade you the one item that can find your chest if you swear to dispense the debt which I owe you. Nice an' simple. Your eternal safety...and more...as I can show you what this particular locatory device is capable of...for the small, trivial price of my living and keeping the Black Pearl."

Jones sat in a great oyster-shell chair, which would have looked a bit feminine were the shell not as crusted and green as the rest of the ship. Tiny pools of sky blue and pearl pink light danced in a few unsullied places, giving the seat an ethereal presence. He stared at Jack for a long time. So long in fact that had the tendrils of his octopus hair not been slithering, he would have fooled a man into thinking he'd fallen asleep. It was foolish to think that the pirate was lying, for there was no hope for those that forfeited their deals with trickery. If the item Sparrow was offering did not exist, there could be no binding term, and there would be no escape from his wrath save the shelter of the shore. And even then...Jones could wait ten years and take his prey after it had gone mad from the fear of its fate. So the question was, if Jones was to get the better of the deal, _where_ was the item Sparrow talked about?

"This...item...is it within your immediate rreach? Is it...safe?"

Bugger, thought Jack. I _knew_ he'd ask that. Treading dangerous ground, he smiled and replied:

"An excellent question, and one I intend to answer with all haste and honesty. Of course the valuable thing is in safe hands, and most assuredly not on my person. Had I been that stupid, you and I both know you wouldn't bother with this little dealy and would 'ave 'ad me killed soon as I stepped on board. However, say it were in fact amongst my close effects, the destroying of my living self would undoubtedly prevent you from knowing how to use said item...if I did in fact have it with me."

"So yew have it with yew," Jones said with a snorting laugh. "Yew would be surprrised, Sparrow, hwhat a man can achieve with the more prractical sides of interrogation. Ai could keep yew alive foor yearrs, or at least long enough foor yew tae be crrying out the answers tae my questions during the pitiful interrvals yew would be allowed tae sleep."

He paused to revel in the sight of Jack's wilting expression. Then he sighed grumblingly.

"But...ai am tempted by your simple solution, and ai fooresee more prressing problems foor me if ai do not remain morre tae the side of amiable. Ai vow that ai will spare yew frrom your debt if yew can prrove tae me that your item not only works but swear that it is the only one of its kind." He held out his right hand, its fingers long since morphed into one grotesque tentacle. "Do ye accept?"

Jack shuddered before allowing the horrid palm to slime up his own hand, smudging the fake Black Spot he'd drawn.

"Agreed," he wheezed under the crushing grip. Under Davy Jones's patient stare, he reached down to his belt, trying at the same time to wipe his gunged hand subtly on the underside of the table beside him. He unclipped the precious octagonal box and presented it before the master of the ocean. "This...compass...is the most unique thing in the Caribbean besides myself. It will show you exactly what it is you want most in the entire world." Internally wrenching out a fragment of his heart, Jack reached out and placed the compass into the suckered grasp of Davy Jones.  
"See for yourself."

Jones grunted dubiously before gently lifting the compass lid with his claw. He lifted it close so that Jack could not see and focused hard upon it. At first it did very little, but as his doubt waned, his eyes gave an eerie glimmer and he took in a shallow breath. He looked at Jack, daring him to declare a game of foolery, then his gaze switched back to the compass. Trembling, he snapped the lid firmly shut and hid the object inside his coat.

Davy Jones rose from his seat.

"Our debt is settled," he said quietly. "Foor now. Yew may leave when yew wish, Sparrow."

Pressing his hands together into a grateful steeple, Jack bowed to Jones.

"Thank you and you're welcome," he said -

- and bolted out of the cabin, skidded along the deck, shouting -

"Loose the sails! Throw me a rope! On deck all hands! Weigh anchor! Ready to starboard ho-!"

He slammed into the rail in shock, his desperate hands scrabbling on the top.

"N-no..."

_This isn't happening. Must 'ave me bearings wrong, wrong side Jack!_

Sparrow dodged in and out of the milling, chuckling crew as he hurried to the other side of the ship. Once more he saw nothing but open, empty ocean leading into a thickening fog. He wheeled around to face the crew.

"W-where's the _Kaelas_?" he demanded, unable to keep from stammering.

The monsters roared with laughter. Shaking with panic and anger, Jack drew his cutlass and pointed it at alternate crewmen.

"You can't do this!"

Jones strode out on deck to see the commotion beneath the sky. The moment he saw that the _Kaelas_ had left his guest behind, he threw back his head and laughed.

"Well ain't that the pity?" he sniggered. "Looks like he's become parrt of my crrew with no debt tae force him." He put on a show of mock sympathy, bowing before the frantic pirate. "The infamous, _charrming_ Jack Sparrow marooned _again_, with not a frriend in the world. Ai could cry, ai almost could. Will ye serrve, Jack? Or will ye be confined tae the hold until madness consumes yew? Alterrnatively, perhaps yew'd prrefer a long swim?"

Jack glanced over the rails at the sea below and then at the looming mist. He had no clue where they were by now. Not without his compass. Though it would do little good, he continued to wave his sword at anyone that neared.

"I've given you the key to all things, Jones," he called brokenly. "The least you can do is take me to the nearest port. I'll be no trouble after that. The very sight of me vexes your inexorable entity so it would be better for the both of us if I was no longer aboard." He kept a close eye on one of the crew who grinned at his last words and he hastily added, "But on land, aye? No dropping me in the ocean. You're not allowed to kill me, that's not the rules."

Another snort of mirth escaped the marinal lips of Davy Jones. "Rrules? Hwho said anything about rrules? Your debt has been dealt with trrue enough. Ai cannot kill yew foor taking back your Pearrl, nor am I permitted tae be rrid of yew foor using your wiles tae bargain with me. But there is no contrract that says ai can't hold yew against your will or destroy yew purely out of a turrn of disliking."

He looked around at his crew of crusty slaves, most of them ready to slay his enemy with the right signal. His eyes rolled from side to side as he pondered what to do with his captive.

"It is not mai desire that yew escape me just yet, Sparrow," he said at last. "Throw him in the hold," he barked at his men. "See tae it that he is _comfortably_ strrapped in..." Jones smirked as the monster crew rushed to disarm Jack, and then stalked off along the deck.

Jack roared a futile warcry and struck out at the monsters, slicing with his blade into the immortal stench of fish. Despite his efforts, the wounds he made only healed over and made the creatures stronger. It was not long before they overwhelmed him, clonked him on the back of his head and dragged him below deck.


	19. Better Late Than Never

**Chapter XIX: Better Late Than Never**

Ragetti could not help but sigh as the_ Kaelas_ neared Port Royal. They were back here _again._ He expressed his unhappiness to Pintel, but also added that "I figure we're better off here than on that ship wot got Jack."

Pintel heartily agreed. "Never've I seen a thing like it. Me ol' dad used ter talk about sea monsters an' curses an' such. Now all in one year we suffer one and then have to run away from another." He allowed himself a strange grin. "Cor, ain't 'alf an adventure being a pirate innit?"

His brow furrowed suddenly at the sight of the swarms of guards in the harbour.

"I knew we shouldn't've come 'ere again," he whined. "'Ow on erf are we gonna get past all them guards?"

Ragetti was just about out of ideas. "I..I don' know. I don' suppose we could 'ope to stay on this ship, eh? Hide out below decks or sommit."

"Yeah we could do that. If we get past all these grumpy begg'rs some'ow. Just sit nice an' quiet in the hold or suchlike? Maybe SaDiablo won't be too mad...weren't nuffink to do with us...and, then maybe we'll dock in a pirate port somewhere. Let them do the work for us, eh?" He started to creep past the crew, but that wasn't too hard seeing as they were all too busy scouring the shoreline for Surreal. Some of the more sailorly-looking men had gone ashore to get closer to hear about the commotion of guards.

"Yeah, right."

Ragetti followed his pal down below decks, doing his best to keep quiet and unnoticeable by Surreal's crew. It was a surprisingly easy task. He and Pintel hid out down in the storage area, and even helped themselves to an apple. Ragetti figured that once the crew found their captain, they would set out back to sea ASAP.

"Per'aps we might end up in Tortuga after all. Then 'twouldn't be too 'ard to find the _Pearl_, and now with Jack all caught up in some issue wit Davy Jones, 'e won't be aroun' to stop us from takin' 'er."

Pintel cackled quietly and rubbed his hands together. "Aye, spot o' bad luck fer Jack but good fortune perhaps fer us. 'Twould be a shame ter let a good ship go to waste. I 'ope Surreal comes back soon for the Kaelas."

He took another apple and crunched away.

****************************************

As Surreal neared Port Royal aboard the _HMS Dauntless_ she noticed the _Kaelas_ docked up.

"Titan she's here!" she shouted up to Titan as he prepared the _Dauntless_. As they neared Surreal noticed a lot of commotion.

"Damn," she hissed. "Titan, release the crew and be prepared for a bit of a swim."

"What the -?" Titan asked but followed her orders. He went below deck and released the crew, though he kept a tight hold of the officer among them. "Surreal, what are you up to?" he asked as he forced his prisoner to the helm.

She had disabled the rudder by the time Titan returned, she was just about to release the anchor.

"Help me!" she gasped. Once the ship had come to a stop she smiled at Titan. "We have a welcoming committee at Port Royal, and for once I don't want nothing to do with it. We'll have to swim to the Kaelas." She paused as she glanced over at the shore. "It'll take them a while to get prepared so that they can board the Dauntless, and when they do we'll be on the Kaelas."

She smiled at Titan as she dived into the water without a backwards glance.

"Bloody woman!" Titan cursed as he made his way over to the side. "Actually wait…" Without warning he knocked out the officer. Then he dived into the water and made his own way to the _Kaelas_.

Surreal reached her ship, wet and out of breath. Once her crew spotted her, she was pulled aboard.

"All right, where is he?" she growled as she made her way through the ship, hunting for Jack. But instead she found Ragetti and Pintel. "What happened? Where is Jack? Where is Stubleg?" she snapped. She took a step back, so as not to scare them, though she probably already had. She then took two deep breaths. "Well…?"

Ragetti jumped and yelped when Surreal stormed into their hiding place. He was so startled, he almost lost his eye again, but he caught it just in time.

"I... we... uh... he... Jack's gone. 'E wos captured b-by the _Flying Dutchman_ an' they took that other guy too..." he stammered, hoping Surreal wouldn't kill the messengers.

Pintel threw himself at Surreal's feet, awailing. "Oh please don't kill us, marm! It weren't our fault! Cap'n Jack made us do it!" He set about kissing her boots.

Ragetti followed suit, hoping his eye wouldn't fall out at the odd angle his head was at. Just to be sure he wouldn't lose it, he popped it out and held it in his hand as he kissed.

Surreal jumped back out of their reach disgusted.

"Oi! Pack that in!" she snarled. "I know that was Jack Sparrow's doing, but where is Stubleg?" she asked as she debated whether to knock their heads together. She spared a glance at Titan, who had just walked in, hoping that he realised that she wanted the _Kaelas_ to set off.

Ragetti sat up, going slightly red in embarrassment. He pushed his wooden eye back into its socket. " 'E wos taken wit Jack onto the _Dutchman_, ma'am."

Even though Titan knew that glance all too well, he decided that he would stay for this. He could have said that he only stayed to keep an eye on Surreal, but in truth it was to see if she took out her frustrations on them, which would be funny to watch. He did however motion over one of the crew and whispered in his ear to set off and head towards Tortuga.

Surreal looked Ragetti in his eye to make sure he told her the truth.

"ARGHHHH! Bloody pirate, I'll gut him! Screw the money for it, I'll do it for the bloody pleasure!" she growled. "All right you two, where did you run into the Flying Dutchman? I want my crew member back!"

Ragetti whimpered under Surreal's gaze. "W-we were at this prison... this Turkish prison or sommit. Jack went in to git somethink and when he came back we were sailing away an' the _Dutchman_ came up an'...." he trailed off at the horrible memory. "'Twas a terrible place, ma'am. Terrible place..."

"Hmm, is there anyway to find this Flying Dutchman?" Suureal asked, the edge removed from her tone.

"I-I don' know..." Ragetti looked to Pintel to see if he could help at all.

Pintel hastily rubbed a bit of spittle off Surreal's shoe and stood up timidly.

"We tried to stop 'im being taken aboard, marm. Honest we did. But I don't think you should strive to anger Davy Jones, beggin' yer pardon. Him's what controls the sea. Well, 'im and Him up there," he said, pointing up at the heavens. "It's said that unless you wears the Black Spot..." at this moment he brushed his lapels frantically, spun around and spat like a strange dance, "...the only other ways to find Jones is to sink yer own ship. 'Less you knows how to find ships what are done for."

"Uh huh, that doesn't help me does it lads?" she sighed. She then glanced at Titan. "Make the heading Tortuga." With that she turned her back and strode out of the room.

"All right," Titan said whilst he watched her go. "Well lads, why don't you tell me in detail what happened?" he said as he closed the door and pulled up a chair so that he was sat in front of it.

Ragetti shuddered. He didn't really want to think about it any more. He just wanted to get to Tortuga and look for the _Black Pearl._ "It's jus' like wot we told ya, sir. Jack took the _Kaelas_ to a Turkish prison and he went inside to get somethin' he said wot was valuable. Then we were sailin' away an' the _Flying Dutchman _came up outa th' sea." Ragetti rubbed his wooden eye. "It-it wos Davy Jones... an' 'e took Jack an' that other crew member o' yours... an' then the rest o' your crew took us back 'ere ta look for Surreal." He looked to Pintel, wondering if he had anything to add.

"S'right," Pintel agreed. "'Appened just as he sez. Don't know wot it was Jack found in that prison but yer crew weren't too 'appy cuz it weren't a bundle o' treasure or nuffink." He screwed his face up trying to remember any other details. "He, that is, Jack drew the...you know wot...symbol, the one that's cursed to mention on 'is hand. I don't fink ol' Davy were too 'appy when he saw it." The little mechanisms of Pintel's brain churned. "'Ere, maybe you should look fer someone oo's got the...the mark?"

Ragetti nodded, agreeing with Pintel. "Yeah, yeah. Maybe that'd bring 'im over." He rubbed both his palms, as if afraid he would suddenly sprout the black spot.

"Oh!" Titan replied a little confused. "Well once we get to Tortuga, you two may do what you wish, but a word of advice, if Surreal wants you then see her before you jump ship, otherwise she might come looking."

With that Titan strode out the room.

Ragetti breathed a slight sigh of relief. He rubbed his eye again, then stopped when he remembered that he probably shouldn't do that.  
"Well, at least we're on our way to Tortuga," he said to Pintel. He smiled. "Per'aps we migh' actually _get_ there this time, eh?"

Grinning, Pintel replied, "Aye, an' maybe we'll find our _Pearl_ all ripe for the taking!" He lowered his voice even more. "So long as that Surreal don't 'ave a mind to take 'er instead."

******************************************************************

Leonardo's hat appeared on the surface of the river, followed eventually by the top half of his head. With the rest of his face still submerged, his eyes cautiously took in his surroundings. He had successfully made it to the place the odd man had overheard Surreal mention (back in Port Royal), but yet again he was too late and yet again his intended prey had eluded him. Certain now that he had the right place he stalked along the bottom of the shallow river to the bank, and pulled himself out of the water. Shaking off the worst of the seaweed, and saying a fond goodbye to Rodney, the useful piece of driftwood that had got him there, he straightened himself up and smirked, surveying Tia Dalma's shack in closer detail.

"Ol' Leo's gonna' 'ave some fun 'ere, tha's fer cert'n..." he grinned to himself, before striding into the shack, batting the door aside.

Tia Dalma looked up in alarm and moved into the main room. There she met a battered man who was dripping wet from the swamp. Tia knew instantly that there was something not right about him - that he had died but was now for some reason brought back to life and had been walking around, immortal, for many decades now. She could see in his eyes that his soul was dark and bloodstained. The muscles in her neck went tight.

"What do you want?" she demanded.

"Sorry fer me somewhat intrusive entrance, but me 'ad t' look forbodin', I mean, imagine' if me 'ad tha wrong 'ouse an' me came in all sheepish lookin' - I 'ave a reputation t' uphold, ma'am!" He strode across the room as he spoke and took a seat next to a huge black snake, making himself at home and resting his boots on the table in front of him.

"Aye..." He looked about the room. "Aye, answers be what ol' Leo's after, pet, an' ye seem like tha' type t' be in possession o' some." He slammed his fist down on the table next to him, crushing a mouse fleeing desperately from the snake. "Don' play wi' yer food unless it can scream! And it don' distract me when I'm givin' a speech!" He barked at the reptile angrily, before resuming his monologue.

"Uh... aye, now ol' Leo knows tha' nuthin' comes without a price, an' so I'm wonderin' what an 'umble dead man such as me can do fer ye to... curry favor wit' ye." He grinned wickedly, tilting his head to the side, hoping she would ask him to murder lots of people.

Tia studied the man, her eyes dark. She crossed her arms over her chest. "So you are telling me dat I will tell you the secret dat's been keeping you alive and in return you will happily kill anyone and everyone dat I wish? Is dat right, Leonardo di Giovanni?" Tia couldn't help but think how nice it would be if for once everyone could find their heart's desire without knocking on her door.

He grinned at her.

"Now yer gettin' tha picture, witch! Aye! Maim, gut, drown, hang, stab, shoot, poison - anyone yer want, anyway yer want 'em! I am _very_ good - it's me favourite past time, yer know..." He cricked his neck. "So what's it gonna' be, pet? 'Ave we a deal?"

"Maybe..." Tia said. She knew she didn't need this man to do any killing for her - she had her own methods that were very effective. However, if sending this man might save her some energy when it came to murder by magic...

"I don't have any killings dat need to be done righ' now, but if one such case does arise, I will let you know. Now... as for your bein' alive... give me your hand."

Tia held her own hand out to take his.

He gave a satisfied grin at her acceptance, and leaned forward, swivelling round, taking his feet off the table and putting his left hand in hers all in one smooth motion.

"Do yer thing, witch..."

Tia took no offence to being called a witch. She reacted as Jack might if someone called him a pirate - she ignored it. She studied Leo's palm, tutting to herself. "You be a cursed man, Leonardo. Da _Very Holy Order _and your sister had it in for you, did day not?"

He tensed slightly at the mention of the Very Holy Order and frowned. "Forty five 'an an 'alf times..." he smirked "Died o' blood loss - looked like a bloody white prune..." He pointed to the hand she held. "Any other startlin' revelations o' stuff me already knows, or is that it? I wants ter know what's keepin' me alive, pet - none o' this stinkin' past n' future blight."

Tia glared at the man.

"I told you; you be cursed. By _who_ I don't know, but _why_ may be because of your habit of killing. You have da Devil's soul. Da more you kill, da worse you get. I know you will not want to quit da killings, but so far as I know, day are cursing you and dat is why you be still alive."  
Tia paused and frowned. She let go of Leo's hand.

"Da _Very Holy Order_ are probably still after you, so if you want to keep being undead, you'd keep away from dem."

He frowned and stood up.

"They still be after me?" He paused for second, then growled quietly, his face revealing a deep-seated hatred. "Fastious..."

Wrapped in his thoughts, he stormed out of the shack, then froze in the doorway.

"Oh by tha by, witch... seein' as 'ow yer were about as 'elpful as lead driftwood - ye can forget tha there deal we made!"

He disappeared from sight, the wooden door slamming behind him.

Tia arched an eyebrow and shook her head. Muttering in a language that few people would recognize, she cleaned the mud from Leo's boots off her table and bottled the mouse he had crushed. She whispered to the snake where he could find another meal and watched him slither away.  
"Good riddance" she said under her breath, preparing a charm to rid her atmosphere of Leo's foul aura. Let the Very Holy Order get him, see if she cared. He was rude, and she didn't really need someone do to her killings anyway.

"Showed me no respect, bargin' in here, stink up da place..." She sighed. "Day all expect miracles and instant knowledge and when I give it to dem, day storm out."

Hopefully her next visitor would be more courteous.

****************************************************************

It was safe to say Jack was not in the best of moods. He was fortunate enough to be able to trade his feelings of despair for those of ill-controlled annoyance. His ship was miles away, most probably still scuppered. Those he could call 'mates' would have no idea where he was. He was cold, tired and hungry. His head throbbed where they had struck him. His wrists and ankles ached where he was manacled to the inside hull of the _Dutchman_. And above all...

...some bastard had taken his hat.

Why was it always the hat? Was there something inexplicably pilferable about that hat? Did it sing to people and say "Wear me!"? He wanted to shout at someone. He wanted to rant and rave. But he could see no one about. _They must've all gone up on deck_.

Jack Sparrow sighed and consented to drift towards the realm of sleep, singing along the way.

"Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream..."


	20. Threats Are Like Buses

**Chapter XX: Threats Are Like Buses**

Surreal ordered the pull in to Tortuga harbour and bid the crew do as they wished. All these wild goose chases were doing her head in, and she didn't much care if her newest employer came after her. She was an assassin wasn't she? It wasn't as though they'd send another assassin to kill the first assassin...no, that sounded too much like a different story. Seeing as Titan had decided to remain aboard the ship, she bade farewell to him.

"Let the little fat man and the skinny one do what they like. They'd only be a hassle."

With that, she left for Tortuga to find a quiet inn for a few nights...if the town had such a place.

*********************************************************************

After a considerable amount of effort in coaxing a long line of molluscs to act as a conveyor belt and persuasion of some of the eldest crewmembers' help, a small bottle was passed up and out through a ship window and deposited somewhere in the wild ocean.  
Inside lay a small piece of cloth ripped from a striped sash. Words chalked in charcoal read:

"_If found, please return to The Flying Dutchman_

_  
P.S  
Bugger_

_P.P.S  
Save me..._"

And the bottle drifted on...

As if pulled by a magnet, the bottle began to make a beeline for a jungle island. It bobbed up a river and into a dark, magical swamp...

***************************************************************

Oaxacoco finally had to admit to himself that he was lost...not just mislaid...but truly lost...nothing but sea and horizon. Not a boat, or even some driftwood afloat. He had caught only a small cod with his spear... but he wasn't saving it for guests, he was a hungry man.

_I must eat_ "Hoeltequel! Ir tu ep..."

He felt a bubble growing inside his stomach, then he remembered why he had not been to sea for years. His guts forced their content up through his throat and onto the floor of the canoe...conveniently missing the vast expanse of sea around. He cursed himself and was immediately doubled over, gagging the last remnants of his stomach fluids outwards. He clutched himself with pain and passed out in the boat.  
He awoke feeling awful, his earlier desire for food long gone. He twisted his ravaged bones into life and picked up the oars. If he was certain of one thing... he wanted land - now!

As it happened hours passed and nothing changed in his prospects, but he resolved not to be grim. He relaxed the oars, rose the tattered sails and began tapping away at his drums. He thought he would write a ballad (for the drums)...and set about practicing fervently. Within five minutes he had torn a hole in the skin of his favourite drum. Rage beset him like no man and he screamed and shouted into the night and across the sea: "Chort!! Alacly oo Maarch, tsin TSINTSAR! Melchtyl o etey oi Madt og PaGt! Ysentil Tchen! Tchen Mar! Boos-oosynyl-arhi-olKAH! Quentisl oof al o manil pad o moufl, ee Tchort!"

The gargantuan vessel of the _Flying Dutchman_ loomed into view from the mists, narrowly avoiding a collision with the bizarre canoe. Davy Jones stared down from the railings at the man that had been disturbing the ocean's relative quiet.

"Well, hwhat do we have here?"

It took poor Oaxacoco a while to notice the vast, and substantially magical ship, for our old man of magic had quite lost the plot and was staring into the realms of nothingness. When he heard the grunt of the captain and creak of the ship he awoke from his daydream, and stared up in shock, exclaiming:

"Ix A-OH!"

For a moment he was dumbfounded. Perhaps the gods he had worshipped for all his life were actually real not just 'hocus-pocus'. He puzzled a moment, before realising his age had caught up with him and he had let the poor fella aboard the other ship go for a full half hour without a response. He so desperately wanted friends other than Redbloom, but he was so very bad at getting them.

A pause for thought. He did not remember what the captain had said and could not see much of his figure (on account of Oaxacoco's weathered eyes). So in all friendliness and jest he pulled out his drums and played his finest ballad to date.

"OOo-oaA (tap, tap, thump)heloxily...heoyt o de saAA-aa-AAn!"

One of Jones's tentacles scratched his head in puzzlement. Though his patience could range between a millisecond and years, he was a bit put out by this odd person's attention span. Furthermore, the language the man sang in seemed older than himself, which left him feeling a bit patronised.

"Ai see ye have a tongue, man. Will yew come aboarrd the _Dutchman_ and impart some of your knowledge and enterrtainment...?" His tone turned dark. "Or shall I turn her about and rrun your vessel through?"

Oaxacoco had a response. He didn't know what to do. Quickly he stopped his playing...and tried to think of one...knowing always that time was ticking away and soon he would forget what the man had said. Then he had it...after a moment worked out the English and shouted back:

"Yeas Iy weel ciame upp, dohntt brayke mi sheep."

He thought perhaps this man was a kind passing sailor and could help him find the Isle of the Rum-Runners (Oaxacoco's navigation skills were not what they used to be, and even then they were terrible). Perhaps he could pay with music and a ritual or two. His magic was a little tired and old and usually he needed a sacrificial victim (even to float a twig in the air). Perhaps the _Dutchman_ would be accommodating. For a moment he wondered why he had never sacrificed Mr Redbloom.

"Thro mee ah rop, anda Iill beeupa!"

Jones motioned for a crewmember to throw down a rope.

"Maccus...Ogilvey...take more rrope down after our guest is aboard. Use it tae haul his vessel on deck. We wouldn't want anything bad tae happen tae it, would we naow?"

His men nodded but showed little sign of mischief. Oaxacoco was aided on deck.

"Will ye stand here when the weather promises rain, or would ye dry off a little in mai cabin?" Jones asked the odd character.

As Oaxacoco clambered upon deck he felt a sigh of relief. He felt lots better aboard the larger ship. He looked up at the captain, squinted his eyes deeply to make out his face. _Tentacles! Haven't seen them in years. _ He smiled. At least these creatures were not the monsters of his dreams...or his youth...

"Yees, Ie weel coime, toh yaoor caiben, a sonnga fawr de akashon?"

He laughed and gave the man a hug. _Sticky..._

Jones grimaced at the little man's embrace and shrugged him off before any of his crew might dare laugh.

"If ye must, sir, a song is hwhat we shall have."

He stepped - _clunk_ - towards - _clunk_ - the cabin - _clunk_ - doors but stopped...before he could annoy the narrator any longer and addressed a few of his men. "You three. Join us in my quarters and make sure our guest is comfortable."

"Aye, Captain," they hissed in unison.

He motioned for Oaxacoco to follow and stomped into his room.

*******************************************************

The day having arrived when she had agreed to leave, Kestrel crept down to the cellar of the White Rose and set about rummaging through her possessions. Taking a small pack from a drawer, she stuffed in a thin peasant dress; a few hard scones she'd purchased from one of the more respectable bakers of the town; a water pouch; a small purse of moneys and some extra random accessories. She hastily scrawled a note in the best grammar she could manage, which wasn't that good, to the head maid that she was taking a small excursion. She'd been there her whole life and the brothel earned enough for them not to miss a few days' or even weeks' work. That done, she headed out towards the Tortugan harbour, still dressed in her less-than-ladylike attire.

*********************************************************

As Mr Redbloom walked upon the deck once more that week he realised the weight of the task he had put upon himself; cannon and fire-damage across the ship. Yet he did not despair. He had repaired many holes in his spell as midshipman back in his youth. He would make it sailable...just. He wandered delicately around the deck looking for any signs of life. He wondered what had happened to Jack's crew. _Oh well._ He was sure he would manage...

He shouted around at the top of his lungs,"Hello...Hello...is anyone around? I want to sail this ship!"

********************************************************

Commodore Herbald stood on the deck of his ship and took in a deep breath of sea air. He felt like a hawk, ready to swoop down on all the pirate snakes that had plagued these waters. Since Commodore Norrington's retirement, pirates had once again become a serious problem in the Caribbean, and it was Herbald's job to stop them. So he had kissed Eleanor goodbye and promised her he would write everyday and that he would return for the birth of their baby in 6 months. Now he was on his way.

"Commodore?" Herbald turned to his Lieutenant, Stewart.

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

"May I ask, sir, is there any particular pirate ship we're going to target first?"

Herbald smiled grimly. "I have eyewitness reports of a ship that is Asian in appearance that dared to dock in Port Royal _twice_ recently. Her _female_ captain even stole the _Dauntless_ after her crew left her behind in an attempt to chase after them. Thanks to the incompetence there was before I arrived, every single one of them got off Scott-free. I plan to hunt that ship down and send that female captain and her crew to the gallows. Reports say the ship's name is the _Kaelas_ and her captain is Surreal SaDiablo."

Lieutenant Stewart paled slightly. "I hear she's an assassin, sir."

"Then we'll proceed bravely, but with extreme caution," Herbald said. "Apparently there was also a sighting of Captain Jack Sparrow around that ship."

"Sparrow? Wasn't he the one who ruined Norrignton's career?"

"The very one, Lieutenant. The very one."

Stewart paused. He knew what it would mean to the entire Navy if Sparrow were to be caught as well. "And what if we encounter any other pirates while hunting for the _Kaelas_?"

"Then we will take them down too. Is that clear, Lieutenant?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Good. Carry on."

*********************************************************

Elsewhere, the Inquisitor General Fastious stalked down the wooden pier and toward the main harbour, his large black boots thudding methodically, his large black robes flapping behind him in the coastal wind. His facial expression gave away the disgust he felt for this pit of sin and filth. His personal guard walked in a cluster around him, three of the sixteen bearing elaborate banners covered in golden religious symbols, holy seals, and quotes of sacred scriptures. The Inquisitor grimaced again, after spitting on a drunken pirate lying at the side of the pier.

"Marcus, note it down that I wish that this place be purged once our most righteous mission is complete. Make sure to emphasize the sheer depravity of the lives these cursed, damned, forsaken souls lead."

One of the guards scrambled to make quick notes whilst still keeping up with his master.

"For now, though, pray you all search hard for the monstrosity. He hath escaped us once, but he shall NEVER be free of the Very Holy Order's wrath for as long as his cursed body continues it unlife."

The strictly disciplined members of the Very Holy Order obeyed his command immediately, disappearing in different directions in search of Leonardo di Giovanni - the bane of their order.

***********************************************************

A seaweed-covered arm reached out of the water and grasped the anchor line. Di Giovanni heaved himself out of the Tortuga waters, climbed up the rope and onto the ruined _Black Pearl_. He yawned, stretched, and shook, splattering seaweed all over the deck. He then set about searching for supplies, grumbling all the while.

"Tha one place they'd never 'ave come lookin', an' they're all over tha BLOODY 'ARBOUR!!"

He roared and threw a crate of something at the mast. It was fair to say he was slightly peeved at the sudden appearance of who must have been his old nemesis, Inquisitor Fastious of the Very Holy Order.

"Driftin' fer twelve years ter this filthy 'ELL 'OLE ain't good enough fer yer WAS IT?!"

He booted a barrel overboard and stood, shaking with anger.

Mr Redbloom heard an almighty crash from the other side of the ship and his heart jumped. _No one is going to stop me now_. He readied his cane, pulled out his bottle of paraffin and lit his cigar. An almighty smile crossed his face..._I'll have this ship!_

"Show yourself sir! I will not have stowaways aboard my ship! Well, where are you! A man, sir, would show his face. You pathetic little swab, Face me!"

Having found at last the ship that Redbloom had decided to take, Kestrel raised her eyebrow at the strange commotion of men in churchy robes near the harbour and then strode up the boardwalk and onto the deck.

"Looks a bit of a wrec-" she started, but her words failed.

She couldn't see Redbloom. Instead was a rather smelly, ragged man.


	21. Makeshift Crew On A Black Ship

**Chapter XXI: Makeshift Crew On A Black Ship  
**

Ragetti was very glad to be off the _Kaelas_ and in Tortuga at last. He and Pintel had been told that they could go, but not to stray too far away in case Surreal needed to talk to them. After a few nights rest, the two pirates had began to hunt for their old ship and soon found her.

"Cor, look a' th' _Pearl_!" he exclaimed to Pintel, pointing at the wounded ship. "Wonder wot 'appened 'ere?" Then Ragetti spotted a man aboard the _Pearl_. "Oi, wot's 'e doin' there?"

Pintel bristled with anger. "I dunno, but I sense some murderin's to be 'ad if he doesn't get off..." He screwed up his face in confusion as he noticed several other figures aboard, and something climbing in the rigging that looked very familiar...and furry. "What in hell's name is goin' on?"

Ragetti felt an urge to protect the _Pearl_. He still considered in part it to be his and Pintel's ship. Living on it for a decade will do that to you.

"I don' know, but I reckon we shoul' check it out."

"Too right," Pintel answered. "We better get a move on too. Looks like they're thinkin' of sailin' off wiv 'er!"

He waddled hurriedly along the harbour towards the _Black Pearl_.

The Inquisitor General Fastious was furious beyond description. He stormed up and down the far end of the harbour, screaming commands at his poor subordinates as they scurried past, desperately trying to complete the three previous tasks they had been loudly ordered to perform.

"That MONSTER shall NOT escape me aga-"

Fastious froze in mid bellow. He had spotted two rather impoverished looking beggars hurrying toward a decrepit ship. Although this in itself was of no interest, he had spotted why they were in such a rush.

"He- he-." The Inquisitor General stammered, failing to control his speech. He stood, shaking with silent rage as he glared at di Giovanni, pale and dripping, on the deck of the barely sea worthy ship. He viciously snatched at one of his nearby aides and pointed to the ship. "That ship. The wicked creature is on that ship. Come, we shall enact our righteous vengeance upon everyone on board. Gather the men!"

Mr Redbloom stood awaiting his potential foe aboard the ship, ready to assault him given any hostile intentions. Suddenly he noticed a monkey clamber up the rigging. Shocked, he wondered if that was the source of the disturbance, but he thought better of it. Such a small creature could not have made quite such a crash or even created the debris that slew across the deck. He looked over the docks to check if his young ally was about. He could not see her. He waved indiscriminately just in case, and avoided the glare of the religious looking fellows. He could not bear those crusader types.

He looked around the ship, still defensively clutching his cane and bottle of paraffin. Rolling his cigar gently between his lips, he turned about the corner and behind the mast he beheld his foe, a rank and rotten man. He recognised him instantly - the man from the beach! He considered sneaking up and striking him for a moment, then thought better of it, he would give this man a chance...for now...

"Excuse me sir, but this ship is under my command. I would thank you kindly to leave or if you are willing... to join my crew." He had just figured a plan. "Well, seaweed! Respond! Show me who you are, man! Perhaps you are a drunk and not worthy of my fine words... I must say I do not take kindly to your attire or your demeanour, but I am willing to look past that. All right, three seconds or you burn, sir...one...two... "

"S'been a very long time since someone 'ad tha guts t' talk like tha t' me..." Leo turned and smiled evilly at Mr. Redbloom. "I be Duke Leonardo di Giovanni of Ferrara. Ye be a wretched lookin' cap'n if I ever did see one. 'Owever... if yer gettin' outta' this place, then I suppose we might 'ave... a common goal - if ye get me meanin'..."

He snapped his eyes on Kestrel.

"'An I suppose, wha' with ye bein' tha cap'n - this here wench must be yer first mate!" He chuckled to himself, before returning his gaze to Albannon. "Lemme make one thin' clear t' ye... I ain't ever been a pirate, 'an I don' plan on a change o' career in tha near future. Aye, we can 'elp each other out in this here tight spot, but ye _won_' be givin' me any orders... 'an I ain't callin' ye Cap'n." He peered more closely at Mr. Redbloom. "Wha's yer name, anyway?"

Mr Albannon Redbloom raised his eyebrow jovially at the young smelly man. The very sight of him made Albannon chuckle. _My, my, a man with some fritters._ He twirled his cane around gently, smiling, puffing upon his cigar. "I suppose, sir, you think a lot of yourself. Let me tell you I take no such attitude from a pathetic dreg of a gentleman as yourself. A lot of pretence - isn't there?! But very little in the brain department. Haha, as far as I am concerned I am the worthiest man on earth. The game is quite simple: prove yourself to me, Mr Leni do Givvi of Ferret and you will go far. Cross me and you shall fail. It seems, my friend, that you are in a spot of bother. Otherwise you would not be in such a rush to escape this place. I suggest you follow what I do, and do not question me or who I chose to work with, be it man, woman or pig, or I shall stay right here! I do not pretend to be a captain...and I am certainly no pirate...but the ship is mine and anyone aboard will do exactly as I say or I shall burn them alive. I am not a man to be bargained with. Are you in, or are you out!"

Leonardo was about to draw his sword when two things happened. First, it occurred to him that no one had actually tried burning him yet, and so he couldn't be entirely sure what would happen. Secondly, he remembered that even if he did survive the flaming paraffin, there was no way he could then escape the Very Holy Order. He choked back his anger and sighed, defeated by his present situation.

"Wha d'ya wan' me t' do?" He managed a tiny smirk, picturing himself mutilating his new captain as he spoke.

Kestrel wrinkled her nose at the man...thing...that stood dripping near her where she stood between him and Albannon. "You're not actually thinkin' of _bringing_ him along?" she sneered at Redbloom. She allowed a bit of her childhood tongue to slip in, "_C'est la connerie_..." She noticed the monkey perched in the rigging. "And having that on board is plain unhygienic."

"No' so _damn stupid_ tha me can' understand what yer sayin', woman."

Leonardo was angry again now, which he much preferred to the sinking, defeated feeling of facing being burnt alive... or... just burnt...

Regardless, he was determined to argue until he got the last word, no matter what language it was in.

"A mon avis, il n'y a rien pire avoir sur un bateau qu'une femme. Surtout une femme faible et sotte comme vous..." He smirked. It hadn't been the best French, but he was allowed to be rusty after all these years. "Wha's tha matter, pet? At a loss fer words are ye?"

Kestrel glowered at him. "Clearly you use too many. And, if there really is nothing worse than a woman aboard to you, I'm sure we can help you with the problem." She turned to Mr Redbloom. "Can we just kick him over the rails?"

Mr Albannon smiled gloriously at his two new crewmembers. _Give it a week and they will be getting on like a house underwater._

"No my dear we shall not. He is the crew...and by the crackle of my beard we need someone strong like him..." and he whispered in her ear, "besides I have a really good job for him later." He struck his cane on deck hard to call attention and gestured lavishly to the monkey above." A small furry creature could be a problem I agree...but keep it around. It could make for a good lunch, if our journey goes a little off course." He cast his cigar on the deck and extinguished it, then proceeded to doff his hat. "Lady and Gentleman! May I introduce myself: Mr Albannon Redbloom, I shall be your captain for the voyage. Our goals...Number one - to find Jack Smarrow. Two - to sail upon the lost city of the Lombeque, get the treasure and redeem my most precious of possessions."

He looked heartily at his crew; all was going well for a change. Though he would have to address the rotting smell.

"You! Master Lendino mon Givvio, you see the nearby ship? I want you to steal a large sail and some rigging from it. Young lady, you see the wooden pier...I want you to salvage it for wood and report to me, I shall check the cabin for nails." He thrust his cane into the air once more, punctuating the heavens. "Well...look sharp about it...if you want to get out of here...move, move, move!"

Mr Albannon turned to hurry along with the task of repairing the ship when he saw movement across the docks. Several men were bearing down on their position. He panicked and fell upon the floor. He screamed with rage at his own idiocy, and propelled himself back to his feet.

"Cancel those orders! We are under attack! Master Lendino Gevo, go tear down the smallest of our own sails and tense it across the hole. Missy! Cast off! I don't want to fight unless I have to...we make for the trade vessel in open water!" He pulled out a cigar, lit it and made for the wheel... _What do people have against me?_

At the mention of him being eaten for lunch...immortal or not...Jack had screeched defiantly. He would have chosen to jump ship were it not for the fact he heard the mention of a man referred to as "Smarrow", which was surely a mispronunciation of the impudent wretch that had caused all his troubles...and indeed whom he was named after as a sort of mockery. Jack the monkey leapt off the rigging, dove between several people's feet and bounded below deck in search of refuge.

Ragetti reached the _Black Pearl_ just before Pintel. The wooden-eyed pirate wasted no time in climbing up on board. The long years he had spent on the _Pearl_ meant that he had a practiced ease climbing and moving around her. He had to wince at the large wound in her side. She would need a lot of work before she was properly sea-worthy again. He saw the three people on the deck - a girl, a very smelly man, and an angry little man shouting orders.

"Oi!" Ragetti shouted. "This 'ere is our ship! Clear off!"

Kestrel whipped out a very tiny knife from her knapsack and set about severing the ropes. "I don't suppose, Mr Redbloom, that you thought to bring any weapons with you?" She heard a shout from the man who had just scrambled on deck. "If this really is your ship, you've done a fine job of looking after it," she sneered at the pirate.

A moment before the mooring line was cut and the _Pearl_ started bobbing out of harbour, Pintel hurled himself on deck and rolled in a heap. He'd noticed that the ship was a little damaged, but had been patched up a bit...he presumed by Jack's crew who must have taken their business elsewhere when they saw their captain had not returned. Pintel picked himself up and joined in Ragetti's complaint.

"Wot do you fink you're doing! This ship means a lot to us. We used to be part of its crew when it were a thing o' legend!"

Leonardo drew his sword again, pulling a flintlock from his belt with his left hand, and stalked slowly toward the two pirates.

"S'rry t' be botherin' two fine, gentlemanly beggars such as yer pretty selves, but I've no intention o' lettin' me one escape route be commandeered by some ill-begott'n scoundrels... especially if that there same escape route takes me ter Jack Sparrow..." He stopped in front of them, the flintlock pointed at Pintel's head, the sword held ready to deal an excruciatingly painful death to Ragetti. "So 'f I were ye, I'd be damned fast in gettin' meself off this 'ere boat, so's I don' get angry an'... well... kill ye!"

Just then, Leonardo became aware of just how much he enjoyed threatening people. He enjoyed killing people more, of course, but threatening them, he decided, was a lot of fun too.

Pintel whimpered. "Oh don't be blaming us, sir," he whined to Leonardo. "It weren't our fault. We've only been crewing this ship so long we don't know where else to go or what to do with our lives. Please let us stay!" He gulped and glanced sidelong at Ragetti to see what he thought of the situation.

Mr Redbloom was aghast at the invasion that had just ensued upon his newly commandeered ship, but it looked as if his smelly friend was dealing with the threat amiably. He looked across at Kestrel: "Missy, we have no weapons except my wit. Jack Smarrow was buying me a sword, curse his failure, but I cannot fail! Do not you worry, I am the greatest man alive." He steered the ship round and passed the girl his cane. "Look after that for a while...I must focus." He cast his eyes from the bridge of the ship, looked over the two smelly tramps and shouted down: "Do you fancy a job lads? We need all the crew we can get. Well, pipe up! Treasure is involved...and perhaps Jack Smarrow shall be found." He guided his ship out of the harbour and smiled at the assailants left behind. He puffed at his cigar and looked at the horizon. "Well lads...will you work or will Sludgy di Giovania shoot where you stand, I'm sure he wants to...well?!"

Pintel trembled and looked from the flintlock in his face to Redbloom. "Aye sir, I'll work fer ye, I swears..." He crossed himself. "Honest to God."

Redbloom was pleased at the addition to his crew and doffed his hat at the fellow. He choked a laugh. "The only God on this ship, young fellow, is me! And you had better be entirely honest with me. Also I would thank you to sharpen up your dialect...that goes for you too, Lobo do SlivioGivi." Albannon hated the common man's speech. _Ah well, everyone has their place... Mine is above...and beyond._ "If you have cigars to impart to me sir, then perhaps I shall make you boatswain."

Once again, Ragetti wished he still had the Aztec curse. For all the whining he did while he was cursed, you'd never think it possible he's still want to be that way. But with Leonardo di Giovanni's sword pointed under his chin, that idea seemed to be a very good one indeed. It seemed they had no choice. If they wanted to be on the _Black Pearl_, they had to sail under Redbloom as a captain. Ragetti wasn't happy about this, but nothing could be done about it now. He just wanted the psycho's blade away from him.

"Y-yes, sir," he squeaked, wooden eye swivelling. "We'll sail wit ya, but I don' 'ave no cigars or nothin'."

Redbloom sailed the ship further out from Tortuga, He smiled at the thought of being a captain...a_nd a splendid form of a pirate too_. He would regret giving this ship back to Jack, but not for too long. He realised then that the ship's repairs were urgent. He turned to Kestrel and said: "Take the wheel...keep her straight and aim for that trade vessel." He ashed his cigar on her shoulder. "Also, give me my cane."

He snatched it in his hands and twirled it between his fingers as he descended onto deck.

"It is time, gentlemen, that we got this ship in shape for a long voyage...and besides her captain will want it in order. YOU! And YOU! Raggi and Spotty see if you can't stretch a sail across the hole to keep us going, and far from sinking. Master Stinky de Ginky, you must head down to the hold and find any wooden barrels and boxes and salvage them for wood. Go boy! What are you waiting for! All of you to your duties and ship-shape about it!"

"Aye, sir!" Pintel cried. He scurried off towards the least needed sail he could find and made ready to tear it down. "Oh the poor _Pearl_!" Unable to prevent a small tear welling in his eye, he sniffed loudly.

"But -," Kestrel tried, though it was little use trying to get Redbloom's attention.

_I don't know how to sail..._

She turned the wheel one way and the whole ship veered in the opposite direction.

"Agh!" She turned it back the other way. "Stupid ship!"

Mr Redbloom stalked into the cabin, and looked around. It was a mess! Not as messy as he liked though. Maps everywhere...though none of them appeared useful. It mattered not. He held the only map he needed...a compass would be mightily useful though. _Ah...cursed Jack, nothing useful not even a sword._ He left the cabin having only gained a spyglass. He hoped the crew would do him well.


	22. Hospitality Of Sorts

**Chapter XXII: Hospitality Of Sorts**

After seeing to it that the arrival was donated a chair and a suspicious-looking mug of grog (suspicious in that it appeared to be not so much rum with a lot of salt in it, but instead salty water with not an iota of alcohol in whatsoever), Jones sat in his oyster chair opposite Oaxacoco. The three crewmen he had elected to join in with the frivolities hung around the shadows of his great chamber.

"So...old man," Jones spoke to Oxo in a somewhat gentle voice. "Hwhat brings yew all the way oot here upon the harsh waters of mai domain?"

Having been aided (if a little harshly) by Jones's men, Oaxacoco stumbled to find a seat in the shaky barnacle-encrusted cabin. He was tired and in need of land. He looked at his monster captain closely. What could he possibly want from old Oaxacoco?

"Iy nee-ad toe gow tow ta Islal ove da Room Rune-ers...Ii em acspektad ta dew a joeb....Iy wud lli-ake toe shoiw siem majeek toh yai eef yooo haf a sssakrafis."

Jones listened carefully to the old man, making sure he accustomed himself to the unusual dialect. "The 'Isle of the Rum Runners' yew say? Ai have been arround foor a long time, so it is often of little importance tae me what landlubbers do with the various islands that arre so wanton tae change in their purrpose..." His claw tapped slowly on the side of his chair as he pondered. "However, ai _have_ encountered several vessels carrying such cargo arround at least one place in particular in the Caribbean. It is fair game tae say ai know where this island may be."

Jones relaxed, which was a rare sight for a mortal to see. A smirk presented itself on his face. "As foor this...magic...ai am surre if it is worth the entertainment, ai can provide yew with a sacrifice." He shot a glance at one of the crewmembers he had invited into his cabin. "Frramnon, step up here if ye would be so kind."

The creature named Framnon ceased sniggering at the guest and froze. He swallowed and tried to stammer an excuse, but he knew it would do no good. Trembling, Framnon trudged towards Jones and scrunched up his eyes. Jones snorted with amusement. He knew he could not slay one of his own crew once they were on the contract to serve. Framnon seemed to have forgotten this tiny clause. The captain reached out and plucked a mollusc from Framnon's arm, then offered the little creature to Oaxacoco.

"Will this satisfy?"

Oaxacoco was surprised at the willingness of the slimy man to share in his magic. He took the mollusc from the captain. "Eet shuad du faw eh smarl treek." He pulled a small bag of powder from his loincloth and drew a large face-like symbol on the table. He then placed the mollusc in the centre. He raised his staff.

"Tchoct...Oht...uiolyt yei ayem!...ooooOOOOOO!

He smashed the mollusc in two, thrust his staff at Framnon...and a small fire popped into existence upon Framnon's head. He smiled. At least he hadn't imagined his power.

The sight of Framnon hastily beating at the flames on his head caused a great bout of laughter from Jones. "Well, well!" he chortled to Oaxacoco. "Aren't yew just full of surprrises? All that damage from such a tiny creature..." He smiled darkly. "Yet another interesting use for idle souls. Ai wonder hwhat the magnitude of magic from a grreater sacrifice hwould be. Do ye just do tricks or can ye perform other more valuable serrvices, friend?" Jones nodded to the victim of arson. "When ye're finished jostlin' aroond, Framnon, go tae the helm and ask foor a change of course tae the soothwest. Tell whoever's on duty tae look oot foor trade ships."

"Aye, cap'n," Framnon whimpered before scampering out of the cabin.

Oaxacoco was mightily pleased with the reaction he got from the Captain. He could feel the power of a thousand dead men flowing through his veins. He had forgotten why he was a magician, but now those thoughts were creeping back. He looked at the captain, his blood boiling in the throes of ritual.

"Iy kan doo muech moorr..."

Jones smiled. "Is that right, frriend? Then perhaps ai shall bring yew something a little more worth the watching? Would yew care foor better service?" He reached underneath a nearby desk and pulled out a crusty-looking bottle of wine. His eyes rested on the two remaining crewmembers. "Hwhy don't you bring up oor other guest, hmm?"

Oaxacoco wondered who the other guest could be. He was not sure what a large sacrifice would bring. He only seemed to know at the time: instinctual, he surmised. "Iy weeel ne-ad suem tyme ain' spaycee toh perrfeum eh lajjar ritu-al."

A little disappointed, Jones nodded calmly and stayed his crewmen from carrying out his last order. "Very well. If ye would like, there is plenty of space doon in the hold. Perhaps yew would grrant us with more shows of your talents doon there? Ai am sure everything you may need will be arranged if it is possible."

Oaxacoco narrowed his eyes. He did not trust the concept of 'the hold' but wished to prove himself to his new compadre. He wondered what he might do given a life-threatening situation. He thought of sacrificing his host… _this beast, in death, would give me all the power I would ever need_…but he thought better of it. Quickly he whisked an urchin from the back of a crusty beast, hurled it upon the floor and split it asunder with his staff. Blood trickled from his eyes - he had become adept again. He stretched out his hand and an un-named member of the captain's crew shot into his grasp.

"Uuuliy...OOaaaAAA...Na-erityt...col..COL!...Iyat!"

He thrust his staff into the crewman's chest, and dropped him to the floor. Then he whipped out a knife from his belt and cut deep into the man's chest, whipping out his still beating heart. Oaxacoco's eyes bled deep and long. He looked straight at the captain, heart thrust into his face.

"Iy nowa hooo yow ahr _Davy Jones_ AIy haf si-een yor fayt...halp mie ant ay hailp yaw!"

And with that Oaxacoco collapsed, blood washed from his eyes - he had not used such energy in many-a-year.

Jones stood up in alarm, the shock of the heart beating before him as a grim reminder of himself. A part of him suddenly longed to crush the exhausted shaman. The latest sacrifice, still alive, for it would take the heart's destruction to remove him from the contract of service, gibbered madly and snatched his heart back from the collapsed man. He stuffed it back inside, getting his terrified crew-companion to help it stay in. Their desperate faces pleaded with Jones to let them leave. Luckily, this was exactly what he wanted them to do...if this old man knew as much as he let on.

"Get oot, and clean yourrself up. Ai want yew both on deck by the time I'm done here," he snarled at the two.

With a whimper, they fled. Jones seated himself again and watched the old man. He made no attempt to aid him, but did not stare too hard all the same.

"Ai know someone who will know the exact location of this isle yew seek. I will take yew tae him if ye answer me this...hwhat do yew know of 'my fate'?"

Oaxacoco had not heard much of what the captain had said as he had drifted into a dream. He saw an old man and a chest. The world blurred into indecision - information flew at him from all sides and reality began to melt.

_The sea was and is...the number nine...healthy eating could be bad for you...the fate of man...am I now a god... can I see all? Wait I have forgotten...the captain is a fish...._

He rolled and squirmed upon the floor, spurting collections of muddled phrases whilst his eyes continued to bleed. "Lotas...em tylol logchat...meetdas O oi ah.... OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH."

Perturbed by this potentially dangerous man, Jones contemplated getting up once more and fetching a new batch of crewmen.

"Calm yourself, old man, oor I may have tae move ye below deck lest yew turrn wild and alter the delicate balance of mai working ship. Enough of yoor fits and frenzies. What is this language yew speak?" Something stirred in the back of his mind. A debt had put out to sea. He could sense somewhere...a spot that needed rubbing out. But it would have to be dealt with later rather than sooner.

Oaxacoco slowly came to. His mind began to calm and he was returned to the world. His eyes had stopped bleeding but he still could not see. He was blinded, though there was little to see. He scrambled to his feet, leaning upon his staff and croaked at Jones.

"Iy nohwa ofv yah kerss, Iy kaen halpe yei leeft eet." He coughed a while and nearly collapsed. "Iy weel spee-ak mahr afta sle-ap."

Then he passed out on the floor.

Jones bristled with annoyance. His feelings about his curse were particularly complicated. To have someone dare to speak about it to him was surprising and uncomfortable. He rose once more from his seat and made his way to the door of his cabin, from which he called to a crewman:

"Oor guest is resting. If he wakes, bring him doon to the hold. Ai have a desire to speak with our less agreeable visitor."

He cast one more scowl at the unconscious Aztec before stomping out of the room.

****************************************************************

Once Surreal had rested, she headed out to the docks to find the_ Kaelas_. _Well hello there_, she thought as she boarded her ship. She went over every inch of her to make sure that it was okay and to make sure that there were enough supplies for her journey. Once all the final checks had been completed Surreal raised the red flag to warn the crew that she would set sail soon. Surreal then made her way into her cabin and raided every drawer and cupboard until she had every map laid upon her desk.

"Let's see where the best way to head is," she murmured as she sat down to look at the maps.

"Damn," Titan muttered as he made his way up to the _Kaelas_. He had spotted the red flag, which could only mean one thing. Surreal was aboard and prepared to hunt down Jack Sparrow. He noticed some of the crew as they hurried on. He was worried about Surreal. Ever since Jack commandeered her ship she had sworn to their ancestors that she would get her revenge. He had also heard some rumours in Tortuga that a ship had left Port Royal and that it was looking for the _Kaelas_ and her captain. This was something that he wasn't going to tell Surreal, as she would want to find the ship first.

Titan made his way into Surreal's cabin and sat down across from her, while she bent over the some twenty maps in front of her.

"Erm, sis....?" He paused. _Do I really want to ask this_, he thought while he took a deep breath to ask the question he already knew the answer to. "Where are we heading?"

She never bothered to look up from the maps as she smiled and replied. "To find Jack, my dear brother. He owes me a debt and he will pay." There was such conviction in her voice. "You will pay, Mr Sparrow, you will pay in blood," she hissed. After she had made numerous notations she spared a glance at Titan. "I've got some interesting news for you. I heard some rumours when I was at the inn." She stopped whilst she pulled out the map at the bottom of the pile and started to study it. "There's a rumour that a ship has left Port Royal and is heading here." She looked at Titan and maintained eye contact as she finished. "It is searching for the _Kaelas,_ and me."

She stood up and made her way out of her cabin, while Titan sat there speechless. _So she knew…_

After the crew scurried around, preparing to sail, Surreal hid in her favourite spot in the rigging.

_Where should I begin_, she wondered. _There's Jack who needs to taste my blade, and there's a new foe coming after me_. _At this moment in time I have no idea where Jack is, yet I do know that my new foe has headed out from Port Royal_. _Maybe interception might be a good idea, since I very much doubt that he will expect me to head towards him_. _Well that's decided_.

She called to Titan to lay in a course for Port Royal. If he had any objections he didn't voice them, which was of no concern to Surreal.

_At last_, she mused, _the hunt's begun_.

Meanwhile, _La Réve de Petra_ was headed right for them, though Commodore Herbald didn't know it yet. He just thought he was going to Tortuga. After all, everyone knew that was a pirate port. What better place to catch snakes than in a snake pit?

***************************************************************

Oaxacoco lay in a dream yet again...not happy...not sad - he just saw himself alive again, not a rotting old man but alive. He awoke with a start and his blindness remained. He fumbled for his staff and hobbled around the cabin aimlessly, crashing into various things. _I should really stop divination...it causes me so much pain. Curses are much better - they cause others pain._

"Tlechi moet tis ap patlyu topu..."

He was disorientated and strangely alone - being blind was really the least useful thing to Oaxacoco right now. After some fumbling he found his drums and sat upon the floor.

"Tolos tytec!"

He marked a large circle around himself, and began to breathe deeply. _Perhaps now I shall be taken seriously._ He could do little without sacrifice but sometimes a little goes a long way. He began to tap out a rhythm upon the drums and then proceeded to howl, at length, at the top of his lungs.

"OOoooooOOOOOOOoooooooooooOOOOOOOOooooOOOOOooooOOOOOOOOO."

The winds rose and the sky called. The weather was changing, and the sea churned. Oaxacoco liked Davy Jones and wanted to help in any way. He was sick of Redbloom. Perhaps after this was all done he could get rid of him altogether. But he needed an ally.

*****************************************************************

Jones strode down into the belly of his ship and approached the captive pirate.

"How are yew enjoying your stay aboarrd the _Dutchman_, Jack? I trrust yew are comfortable?" He smirked dangerously as he towered above his prisoner.

Jack smiled wryly at Jones. "I suppose it doesn't quite meet my expectations. You know, even the Spanish have mastered the art of providing soft pillows to even the most hardened of criminals these days." He flexed uselessly against his restraints. "No chance of being anywhere near land, aye?"

"Hwhat's with the hurry, Sparrow?" Davy Jones sniggered. "Ai do hope ai'm not keeping yew frrom more important arrangements." His beady eyes glowered suddenly into the darkness of the hold. "Enough of your lurking aboot, Turrner. Have ye not dared tae approach your old Captain hwhile he's been aboard? Foor shame."

Jones sneered at the figure that slowly stepped out of the shadows. The look on Jack's face was particularly rewarding.

"Now yew have missed the opportunity tae have a banter with your old friend, haven't ye, Bootstrap? Get back on deck and set course foor these co-ordinates -." He flashed the face of his new compass at the miserable crewman that was Will Turner's father. "Ai have a debt to collect."

Jack tried to look relaxed despite the rage that boiled in his blood, and he thought he pulled it off rather well.

"So that's what became of old Bill in the end. It's a wonder I hadn't known. Always a man of the sea. Good man, good sailor, though I'd expect a lot more efficient under a decent captain." He stared Jones in the eyes as the monster glared murderously back. "Got a new target for your next crewman, 'ave ya? What did this one ask for? A ship? Eternal life? Perhaps a pretty mermaid?"

Jones shook his head derisively. "The prrice of every man's soul is nothing short of a secret, as yew well know, Sparrow. However, like yew, this man also sought tae evade his contrract. He has been hiding foor several years ashore, though little good that would do him past a decade." He snorted with mirth. "Ai could just go and fetch him, were that the case. But now, it seems he has returned tae mai domain, foor either mai services or tae face mai wrath at last."

Jack felt the ship change course, but without his compass or even a normal one he might as well have been playing Blind Man's Buff to know what direction he was going.

"Ah, your 'wrath'. I'd suspect it's the one thing with more tentacles than yourself. Not that yours aren't fetching. Love what you've done with them. Would drive the ladies wild, were you not to be in the process of wishing every woman in this world to be stamped out of existence." He frowned. "What I've heard anyway. There's a lot of stories about you, but can't say the legend is all too clear."

Jack had gotten quite a long way by the art of bluffing. He knew there was a key, though he didn't know where it was. Now the chest...that had been sheer guesswork (for, of course, in this story, the consultation of Tia Dalma had not happened). Jones was old-fashioned, so it seemed sensible that the key of a seafarer would most likely unlock some sort of chest. What lay inside it, however, even Jack did not know.

In the middle of considering whether to snap Sparrow's neck, Jones's thought trail was broken by a hideous wailing coming from the upper deck. His eyes ablaze, he growled at Jack. "Ai am not finished with yew yet, and the way things arre looking, ye might have company doon here. Hopefully unpleasant at that. If yew are lucky, maybe ai'll just break oor new guest's back and let him rot here alongside yew, hmm?"

He stormed back upstairs, leaving the pirate's questions unanswered and his hopes, for now, futile.

**************************************************************

Tia Dalma put herself into a trance. She sat cross-legged with spices burning around her. She hummed to herself and saw a vision. Two giant thunderclouds heading toward each other like two fighting tigers. Neither one of them was going to back down. Meanwhile, a deep, dark danger was hiding beneath the sea. Tia frowned as she recognized the essence of Davy Jones. Along with Davy Jones she thought she caught a whiff of another individual she knew well. It was like glimpsing a small bird trapped in a cage.

"Sparra..." she muttered.

She could feel in her bones that Jack was not with the _Black Pearl_. Tia concentrated to see if she could find out more, but a cold, sharp breeze blew suddenly through her shack, snapping her out of her trance. She put a hand to her forehead, nursing a headache. She knew she probably could do something about these problems, but she wouldn't. She would let nature take its course. Unbeknown to her, the little bottle Jack had sent out into the sea from the _Flying Dutchman_ had just washed ashore in Tia's swamp.

Tia found the bottle later that day when she went outside to get some water for cooking. She knew instantly who had written the distress note even before she read it.

"Oooh Jack, you got yourself inta more trouble," she muttered, shaking her head.

A storm was developing outside and now Tia could sense some of the magic behind it. It was old Aztec magic, tied in with Davy Jones for some reason. Tia figured Jones must have picked himself up someone who knew a spell or two. Tia wondered once again if she should intervene. She looked at the sorry little strip of cloth in her hand. She brought it to her face and smelled it. It smelled strongly of the sea, Jack Sparrow and...fear.

Tia Dalma sighed. "I neva could say 'no' to you, could I?"

And so she set her own magic in motion to see if she could help her Sparrow.


	23. Escape!

**A/N: **On a side note, I'm working on me next "One Depp" chapter. Going is slow though as I have a bunch of builders ripping out the flat above mine which causes much headaches and disturbance. Thus editing the Folly fic is an easier venture for now.

**Chapter XXIII: Escape!**

Out of the sudden howling winds and rain, Jones stormed back into his cabin.

"Hwhat is the meaning of this racket?" he roared. His eyes darted from the drums to Oaxacoco's wailing form.

Oaxacoco was lost deep within his wailing cries, raising the wind and attempting to aid his captain. Suddenly he broke off. He had lost the note he was singing. He began to feel sick again...

"Tellosp oel goez aaz golyt...aye fee-il eha beet eel." He looked at Davy Jones: "Taek mee tow lan-nad and Iy weel doo eni servis ffoor yoo een da fuchor..."

Meanwhile, Tia Dalma's magic tugged at the _Flying Dutchman_. She took control of the storm and rocked the ship.

As the _Dutchman_ lurched beneath him, Jones only just managed to latch onto a sturdy candelabrum to right himself. Growling, he sniffed the air and inhaled the unwelcome scent of interfering magics. He let his eyes fix again on the Aztec.

"Fine. Ai will take yew to your island," he barked.

_If it rids me of this racket and ill luck..._

Jones carefully crossed to the doors of the cabin and flung them wide. Over the roar of waves, wind and rain, he bellowed: "Change course back tae the smugglers, and bring me Sparrow!" Slamming the doors back into place, he stumbled back to his chair. "Ai will take yew where yew ask free of charge," he said to Oaxacoco. "But, ask me foor such generosity again, and ai shall not be so charitable."

Oaxacoco beamed at the slimy captain, and once again gave him a terrific hug. "We-n Iy caen see agahyn, yoo weell no-ta reegrat yah kyendnass, Ai wiel geev yow ahnee fayvor yow aske ove mee... throo bloo-ad orr deth." He smiled, tired, and muttered a few words in his native tongue. "Ai fe-il wee cud bee gooda frends."

**************************************

After a brief amount of moping about his future, Jack had resorted to singing more loudly and raucously than ever, this time 'A Pirate's Life For Me'. He was enjoying its twelfth round, when a couple of surly, barnacled crewmen came to unloose his chains.

"Ah, my guardian angels!" Sparrow beamed.

They hauled him roughly by the arms and marched him topside.

***************************************

Jack was hurled through the doors of Jones's cabin. With his hands and feet bound with cord, it was rather difficult to keep his balance and so he landed awkwardly at the feet of the old Aztec. Straining to look up at this stranger's face, Sparrow gave a weak smile.

"Salutations."

He pushed himself up onto his knees, then regarded the briefly silent people in his presence. Raising an eyebrow, he added, "Am I interrupting something?"

Jones snorted angrily and brushed off the affections of his shaman acquaintance. He knocked Jack flat and, with his wooden leg, pinned the pirate by the chest. "It is your misfortune, Sparrow, that yew arre _always_ an interruption. Your very birth was an _interruption_. Oor newest guest wants tae know something frrom yew. Hwhere is the location of the isle upon which yew have been so frequently deposited?"

Jack pouted. Then he noticed his hat sitting atop one of Jones's bureaus. That made him pout more. He glowered at the peg leg driving into his ribcage, then narrowed his gaze at the monstrous figure it belonged to.

"What's in it for me, eh?"

Tia's magic bashed again at the ship, as if she could feel Jack's discomfort. The lurch of the ship near threw Jones off his pirate perch. More unfortunately for Jack, the gruesome captain managed to steady himself by driving his peg leg harder into the mortal pirate's ribs.

"Devil take this unnatural storm!" Davy Jones roared. He turned his head to glare at the Aztec. "Is this your dewing?"

He snorted and reverted his attention on Jack who was gritting his teeth in pain. "As foor yew, my little frriend, hwhat gives yew the impression that ai would bargain? This is not part of mai contract. Ai'd just as soon hand ye over tae the old man fer free."

Thunder rumbled like an angry beast as lightning threatened to strike the_ Flying Dutchman._ Tia was really going all out on this storm.

Jack smiled hopefully, beneath the only means of his not sliding across the floor. "If you're that keen to get rid of me, why not just drop me off near any meagre piece of land? Looks as though I'm only bringing you bad luck so long as I remain. Not seen as bad a storm as this in many a year." He let his eyes wander across the quiet old man, curious as to his origins.

Jones snarled and moved away from his captive so as to steady himself better. "Ai am not troubled by a storm! The _Dutchman_ sinks only when ai tell it to, and whoever or hwhatever is causing this...frreak of nature...does not seem tae realise how easy it would be foor me tae demand a dive - living guests onboard oor not." He stomped back to the doors of his cabin and bellowed out to the crew: "Head south! Ai sense a debt tae be reclaimed heading oor way, and if ai am not mistaken it is riding on our old familiar vessel - _The Black Pearl_."

Oaxacoco, began to regain his vision and, through a veil of blur, looked bewildered at the gentleman thrust in front of him. He was not sure how the oddly dressed man could possibly help him. "Hoo ahr yu? Caen yai halp mea faynd mi wayee? Letuss geet owta oov heer."

The pirate sat up with great difficulty, hands bound. He twisted his face into a confused scowl as the old man addressed him in a strange tongue. After a moment of deciphering the words in his head, he answered softly so that Jones could not hear, "Name's Captain Jack Sparrow, mate. I'd like to get off this turkey farm as much as anyone. You the one looking for the rum isle? You get me safe out of 'ere and I'll square with you by showing you where to go."

Oaxacoco looked at the fellow in front of him. _Is this the man Redbloom wants?_ He pulled a painful gurn and forced an awkward smile towards the gentleman pirate.

"Ieey theenk Ay caen haelpe." He whisked yet another mollusc off the wall, crushed it and thrust his staff towards Jack's bonds. They smouldered and disintegrated. "Yow now."

Luckily Jones's attention was still on the course of the ship as Jack gawped at the vanishing of his chains.

"That's interesting..." he whispered, more to himself. "Ta," he added. "So, you got any sort of plan to get off this ship? Fleet of your people heading this way, sleeping pill for Fishface or summink? I'm supposing you can't take on an immortal crew by your onesies, aye?" He held his chains still, pretending to still be bound, his eyes glancing darkly at Jones's back.

Oaxacoco looked excitedly around for a moment. "Iy haev no plaen, boot iy hae ae bote, ty-ed tow thees bo-et." He looked to the pirate a little desperately. "Iy aem tyrd ant caent see muche, pleze sav meh, end iyll sav yow."

Jack nodded and scanned the room for something he could use to his advantage. His eyes widened when he spotted the large, crusty globe perched on a nearby desk. "I've got a plan," he whispered to the Aztec. "But I need you to sit quiet, and if anything happens...don't do anything stupid. You're an old man, so I'll wager you got enough wits to manage." Getting up ever so carefully so as not to rattle the leftovers of his chains, he crept over to the table and peeled the globe off its surface. He tiptoed up behind Jones's turned back and raised the globe high over his head...

The captain of the _Flying Dutchman _knew his ship from bow to stern and keel to mast. He could sense the activity of any one of his crew were he to concentrate hard enough, even tell if there were a stowaway onboard. Unfortunately, he was fairly easy to sneak up on - unless they smelled as pungent as a pirate.

Jones spun at the last minute and clamped his crab claw about Jack's wrist. He raised his octopus hand to strike, but at that moment the ship gave a terrific lurch. He stumbled back and cracked his head on the doorframe. In pain and fury, he loosed his claw with the intent to gain enough momentum to sever his attacker's hand...but his eyes rolled up and everything went black.

Davy Jones slumped unconscious on the cabin floor.

Hardly believing his luck, Jack hurriedly set about using his damaged chains to hinder Jones should he come around. Reluctantly, he let his hands tap around the great squid-man's body and located his compass.

"Ta."

Before he moved away, he noticed something glimmer near to Jones's throat. His hand was a blur - whatever it was now lay in the inside pocket of his coat. Jack snatched up his hat and pistol from the desk, placed the hat on his head and addressed the old man.

"Time we must be off, my friend. Now comes the second part of our escape and I'll need you with me." He opened the door and made ready to step out onto the deck.

Oaxacoco looked at the unconscious captain. He had liked him so much. Alas it was not to be. Perhaps he would see the man again, perhaps he would not. _What would happen if he was sacrificed? Perhaps he would never know…_

"Tinatil natyl lxcotl en typ nagu mas...soery Iy me-an, Iy aem roonningi tow halpe."

He grabbed a bag of powder from his belt and chuckled.

Jack grinned, then put on the most serious face he could muster. He threw the doors open and stepped out on deck, the wind and rain whipping his face.

"All right you lot!" he roared at the unaware crew. "We're gettin' off this donkey cart. Anyone who tries to stop us meets the same fate as ol' Jones."

Some of the crew growled. Others were puzzled. Either way, none of those on deck were working.

"That's right, vermin. Jones is dead. Plucked out 'is 'eart with me bare 'ands...and a little help from my powerful wizardy man here!"

The current helmsman laughed. "Nice try, runt. Jones ain't got no 'eart. What else d'ye fink 'e put in 'is chest of legend? Hur hur hur! No one can kill 'im, not without that."

_Bugger_, Jack thought. _So there really is a chest...and that's what's in it..._

He gritted his teeth and continued to look menacing.

"Then 'e must have 'ad two hearts and put the wrong one in the chest. Davy Jones is dead. You want proof? Here!" He pulled out the object he'd stolen and brandished it over his head. The double key to the Dead Man's Chest jangled. Gasps littered the ship. The crewmen backed off.

_It actually worked? Why aren't they questioning the fact that they're still all barnacley and bound to the ship? Ah well, one man's ignorance is another man's chance._

Still holding the key aloft like a weapon, Jack glanced back at Oaxacoco. "Where's this boat of yours then?"

Tia's storm began to lose some of its power. It could have been because Tia somehow knew Jack was no longer in immediate danger, or it may have been just because she was getting tired herself. Either way, the winds eased, though rain was still falling at a steady rate.

Oaxacoco saw the crew of legends before him. Laughing and mocking, he looked at Jack questioningly.

"Eet ees tyde taw de siyd ofl tla bo-at." Oaxacoco clasped the bag of powder to the tip of his staff. and sung: "OOOooooOOOOooooohhhAAAAAH..." He looked once again to Jack. "Cood yaw staeb miy haend?...Ieet weel heaelp, thay ne-ad ah flooster."

After taking a moment to consider what "flooster" might mean, Jack suddenly grasped what he'd been asked to do. He half drew his cutlass.

"Is it absolutely necessary?" He peered over the side of the _Dutchman_ and saw Oaxacoco's vessel, spacious as the old Arawak tribes. Jack raised an eyebrow and said out of the side of his mouth so that the crew could not hear.

"It's a canoe..."

Having woken and realised, in a fit of rage, that his captives had run from his cabin, Davy Jones roared and bellowed as he struggled in his chains. With a great surge of effort, he burst the links apart and staggered upright.

"Yew won't get far," he snarled to the escapees that couldn't hear him. "I'll let ye suffer as long as it takes...and then ye will serve..." He adjusted the hat on his sore cephalopod head and slowly dragged himself towards the main deck.

Oaxacoco gritted his teeth and stared at Jack. "Yees canoh! Yees nekasary! Ahe smael ce-ut shood daw eet." He looked quickly around him. The large pirates moving ever closer. "Wee moost destrac dem qweek, theen eskap qweek. Cuut mi ha-end!"

A great, gargling, booming voice blasted from beyond the cabin doors.

"JACK SPARROOOOOW!"

Jack started at the roar of Davy Jones. The crewmen grunted in confusion and fear, turning their heads across the deck.

"That enough of a distraction for you?" he muttered to the old man. He drew his sword and cut a light wound in Oaxacoco's palm. His other hand readied to threaten his way off the ship with the valuable key.

Blood trickled down the old Aztec's hand. He clasped the staff tight and whispered, "Clemel tot lyte martik ielty tyl..." Oaxacoco began to shudder and tremble, gradually he began to blur. "OoooooooooooooooOOOOOOAAAAaaaaaaooooaaaAAAAAAAAH."

Then all of a sudden there was no Aztec priest... he had disappeared. The air thinned and the wind howled. Then the Aztec appeared on the far side of the ship...and then there were two, then three....there were Oaxacocos everywhere... Another appeared next to Jack and looked over the side of the ship.

"Aye'm noet gooode aet da see, Iee em seek."

With that he propelled vomit over the side of the other Aztecs did the same in their respective corner. "Ge-at mie ofe dees sheep...Iy weel pas owt...thay weel kape dem destrakt." The Aztec swayed over the edge of the ship, dropped asleep and fell into the water below.

Jack winced as the old man hit the water. He leapt over the side and balanced on the length of the great canoe.

"Farewell, my curséd friends, give my regards to your Captain. This is the day you shall always remember as the day that you -"

An angry crewman had sneaked up to the rails. The swish of his sword cut Jack's words off in his need to duck. The blade severed one of the two ropes holding up the canoe. Jack screamed as the canoe dropped away beneath him, the key flying up into the air. He snatched hold of the back end of the little ship and hooked the falling keys with his cutlass. Stowing the keys away safely, he scrabbled up the vertical deck of the canoe - whimpered - and slashed away the last rope. He plunged into the ocean inside the _Tlechlot o Ytchoel_ and hoped dearly he hadn't squashed the unconscious Aztec.

Oaxacoco had awoken suddenly when he dropped into the cold water. For a moment he had panicked, then calmed, then panicked again when he saw the shadow of his canoe fall in his direction.

"Otyeel!"

He lurched underwater, forgetting to draw breath. He quickly swam to the surface and grabbed onto the side of the boat, coughing and spluttering. Jack reached over and helped haul Oaxacoco into the great canoe. He cast a fleeting glance to the vast hulk of the _Dutchman _for fear of it crushing them, but thankfully the waves were already carrying them a remarkable distance.

"Fine magic tricks back there, mate. Better get ourselves a safe'ouse afore we catch our deaths, savvy?" He located one of the oars, checked his compass and began to row towards the horizon and his beloved _Pearl_.

******************************************

Jones stalked out of the cabin, expecting to see the pirate and the Aztec in the hands of his crew. He growled when they looked apologetically in reply.

"We-we're sorry, Cap'n. We thought you were dead," muttered one.

"Yer, 'e had yore key an' all!" added another.

"Hwhat?" their Captain asked with a deadly quietness.

Silence crept through the ranks. The one who had mentioned the key was elbowed viciously by another crewman.

"Hwhat did yew say?" Jones hissed, his voice louder.

"Sparrow...'e has yer...um, key..."

Davy Jones roared with fury and lifted the sea-crusted crewman bodily from the deck. He tossed him overboard into the choppy seas. Without further thought, he threw off two more - saying to the last before he dropped him: "If ye dare return without mai key, ai will pluck out your own hearts and see if ye suffer the same!"

He seethed at the rest of them.

"If they don't reach Sparrow before the hole we put in the shaman's boat drowns them, better pray the fool gets tae his prrrecious _Pearl_. Ai'll have another surprrise for him there. Get to it, men. A debt tae be repaid acts as oor beacon. Ai want the monster woken!"


	24. Voyage Of Vagabonds

**Chapter XXIV: Voyage Of Vagabonds**

Mr Albannon Redbloom, or rather Captain Albannon Redbloom, appeared on deck. He watched the newly persuaded crew go about their duties - and all under his command. They looked scruffy, ragtag...and above all entirely dishonest. He couldn't have hoped for a better lot. He strolled up to the bridge, finishing his cigar and casting it overboard. He looked at the panicked young girl struggling to control the ship and smiled. He stretched open the spyglass and looked across the ocean. He put his hand on the girl's shoulder and said, "Not bad, my girl, not bad at all, though I did say keep her straight and not make us sick...or worse sink. You shall make a fine first mate aboard the _Vengeance_. Do you fancy a cigar? They are quite tasty... and be warned I never accept no for an answer." He plucked a cigar from his tin and proffered it in her direction.

As the self-appointed captain held out his cigar in offer of its pleasure and the lofty job that went with it, he looked out to sea. He wondered what the girl would say. He knew she would never know what he had done mentally in order to save her from the grisly fate he had planned for her - for now the same fate he had planned for Ledi do Gobbo. The girl had become too precious.

"Well! I have offered you a cigar and a job for now and the future...I say, my lady, will you take it or will you not?"

Leonardo was getting extremely tired of being furious. Being this angry not only required quite a lot of effort, but it also meant that he would suddenly find himself growling and muttering under his breath. This was a pet-hate of his and only made him more angry, thus making him more tired of being angry - so continued the vicious circle. He waded through the half-flooded bottom level of the ship, scavenging for anything made of wood or metal, breaking it into usable pieces, and grumbling to himself.

"Filthy stinkin' bilge rats... Curse tha powers tha I be rummagin' fer boat pieces... I shudda' tried me luck wi' tha burnin' alive..." He struggled with a large piece of metal stuck in something under the surface of the water. "This laborin' work ain' fer _Il Cadavere di Assassino Rubando_! I got tha brains an' tha power t' be master o' this ship!" He snarled and gripped the metal with both hands, heaving backward. "I AM Leonardo di Giovanni!! I AM the deadliest, scariest, smartest, and most cunnin' monster t' EVER LI-"

Suddenly, the metal strip gave way to his strength. Unfortunately, it turned out that the metal strip was actually still attached to the ship, and holding together two large wooden panels. Seawater gushed through the gap, sending Leo across the room and impaling him on two halves of a broken plank of wood. Leonardo roared in pain, but reacted quickly, leaping two thirds of the way to the leak and pulling himself the rest. He picked up a handily situated half-barrel and forced it over most of the leak. He then pulled various sharp implements from his person and stabbed them into the woodwork like huge gleaming nails. With the saltwater fissure sealed, and the influx of water down to a minimum, Leo dropped to his knees, exhausted and in extreme pain.

"Bloody... boats... and... their bloody... HIDDEN PARTS!!!"

He stood, gathered up some previously salvaged wreckage, and trudged back up to the deck, hoping that someone would be willing to pull out the two chunks of wood from his back. Yet again, he was furious.

Kestrel was on the point of at least taking the cigar but hoping not to light it when she saw Leonardo stagger up from below deck.

"Oh my god..." She left the helm and went up to the unfortunate man. "What happened?" She resisted the urges of both taking out the planks of wood embedded in Leo's torso and also the one telling her to vomit violently. "How are you still alive?"

He looked up at her, blood dribbling slowly but uncontrollably from the side of his mouth. "Aye, I 'ad a bit o' trouble wi' tha sea. Don' worry though, I fixed up tha 'ole... Ya don' think ya could... er..."

_Oh bugger..._

Asking for help was something Leo did not enjoy. In fact, he loathed the very thought of it. And from a woman? However, if there was one thing di Giovanni had learned to do in all his years, it was survive. _Arrr... 'ere goes..._

"Iwaswunderin'ifIcouldaskferyer'elpnonoIdin'thinksonevermin'then..." He sheepishly began to stumble away, but then stopped. He sighed, shook his head, and turned around. He tried again. "Arrr... Sorry 'bout this, but er... I was wunderin'... I was wunderin' if ye could do me a favour... which would be that I... need... yer 'elp." He closed his eyes and swallowed. He looked almost as miserable as he felt. "Could ye pull out this 'ere wood ?" He pointed with his thumb to the two large chunks of wood jutting out of his back, but in doing so, dropped half of his load. He grimaced with embarrassment and bent over to pick them up, giving her a perfect view of the horrible wounds and the two planks of wood sticking out of them.

Already repulsed at the sight of this...man...Kestrel was loath to do anything that made contact with him. He did seem in need, however...whatever...he was. Grimacing, she reached out daintily and then tugged hard at a piece of wood until it came loose with a hideous squelch. She dropped the broken plank immediately afterwards.

"Ugh!"

He roared in pain, dropping everything and shooting into a standing position. He gripped his back, his eyes scrunched up. "Wha ye tryin' t' do, LICK me?! I wasn' READY! I was jus' pickin' up tha there bloody wood!" He looked at her, wide-eyed, startled and (unsurprisingly) still in pain. He looked at the plank of wood on the deck. He looked back at her. He sighed. "Th- er... Thank ye." He shuffled his feet. "Could ye... er... pull tha other one, pet?"

Giving Leonardo a sour look, Kestrel hissed, "Pet?" She tipped her masculine hat in a mock gesture and walked off. "Mr Redbloom, would you be so kind as to assist this man? It appears I don't have a soft enough touch."

Mr Redbloom looked in disdain at the mess the filthy chap had gotten himself into. It surprised him that the man was not dead - but he had seen odder things in the hands of Oaxacoco, so he accepted it and looked oddly at the man.

"How on earth does anyone manage this..." he muttered. He now wandered clumsily up to the man, having adopted a limp for the purposes of fear. "You are truly the most useless man I have ever met. How did you do it!? Hmmm? I have half a mind to throw you overboard. You seem a lot more hassle than you're worth...and I should know...I AM the very epitome of hassle!"

He sneered at him and gave him a clout with his cane.

"Simply pathetic!" He tugged hard upon the embedded shard and pulled it out with such ferocity as to send himself to the ground, amply spraying blood across himself. He was not pleased. "You fool!" He got up and struck the fellow on the leg. "Next time boy, I will not be tolerant, now go and fix those planks to the hole now!" He plopped a cigar in his mouth and began to smoke away his rage. He walked slowly up to Kestrel and said: "Between you and me...this man has to go. Any suggestions? Oh and what do you make of the first mate job I offered? Pipe up!"

Being unaccustomed to Redbloom's brassy nature, it took a few moments for Kestrel to get her wits back to answer him.

"I...I suppose I could try that, but I don't know anything about sailing...and if we're looking for this...Jack Sparrow...don't you think he would make a better first hand seeing as he already has a reputation?" She glanced over at Leonardo. "As for him, I think he might just be one of those who doesn't know when to keep his trap shut. No I don't trust him, but he could be useful if we got into trouble." She whispered the next part: "Even as bait."

Redbloom was a little confused by the girl's behaviour and didn't venture to understand the whys and wherefores. "Ha! You'll be on the right level...worry not, I have it all sorted. As for Jack this is his ship so he will be captain of this and will not have time I'm sure to aid me aboard my own. Thusly I have asked you. Are you up to speed? Got it? Good!" He slapped her slightly aggressively upon the back. He nodded at Leonardo. "He'll make a perfect bait, but if he annoys me once more, I am afraid I will have no control over my outbursts - and he shall be gone, alas."

Kestrel winced at the slap on her back but bit her lip and let the pain subside. She half looked at the ill circular mark on her left palm, then forced it to the back of her mind. "Mr Redbloom...Captain...where are we heading? Do you know where Jack has gone? If this is his ship...I would have assumed he wouldn't have been far from it?"

Ragetti had seen a lot of things in his lifetime, especially during his many years as a cursed pirate, so he wasn't too fazed by what had happened on board the _Pearl_ already. Even still, he kept clear of the others, sticking with Pintel and helping to fix the hole in the ship and keep her afloat and sailing. It felt really good being on his old ship again. He overheard Redbloom and Kestrel talking about getting rid of Leo. He was all for that. Then they mentioned Jack Sparrow and his ears really pricked up. So, they were looking for the good captain, were they?  
He nudged Pintel and gestured to Redbloom and Kestrel. "Oi, I think they're tryin' ta find Sparrow," he whispered. "Think we ought to tell 'em 'bout Davy Jones?"

Pintel grunted in disapproval as he shoved a stubborn piece of sailcloth into place. "I don't fink 'twould be very wise. That Redbroom or wotever 'is name is looks like one of them foolhardy, brave types. If'n we tell 'im about Davy Jones, he'll probably go _lookin'_ fer 'im. Now I likes Cap'n Jack as much as the next man, but I don't fancy runnin' into Jones again in this lifetime. 'E gives me the willies."

Ragetti nodded, agreeing. He rubbed his wooden eye fretfully at the memory of Davy Jones. "Yeah, righ'. The less we see o' 'im, the better." He winced as a splinter stuck him. "Bloody thing," he muttered, popping his eye out to shave down the rough bit. As he worked, he glanced at Kestrel. "Ya reckon she reminds ya of anyone, Pint?" He smirked. "That Poppet wot Turner ran off wit?"

Grinning, Pintel answered, "Hurhurr, aye she does look a bit like that ol' gov'ner's daughter. Ain't so skinny though. Prettier too." He sighed. "I just 'opes Jack gets free of Jones so we's don't 'ave to go lookin' for 'im should they find out the way." Glancing once more at Kestrel, he noticed her gripping her hand in an odd fashion. "'Ere," he said to Ragetti. "Wot's she doin'?"

As if it made any difference to his vision, Ragetti popped his eye back in and peered at Kestrel again. "Dunno. Why don' we ask 'er?"

"Right." Pintel made sure Redbloom wasn't on the verge at shouting at him for neglecting his duties and crept towards Kestrel. "Psst, lady! Wot's wrong wiv yore 'and?"

Jumping inside her skin at the whisper, Kestrel glared at the two pirates who were staring at her. Proper pirates they looked. It reminded her of her father. Quickly she clasped her hand to her chest so no one could see and blurted rather too loudly, "Nothing! There ain't nothing wrong with it!"

Ragetti smirked at her, his wooden eye swivelling. "You sure 'bout that?"

"If there i'n't a thing wrong with it, then no harm in us lookin'," Pintel exclaimed. He grabbed Kestrel's hand before she could do a thing about it and turned it over. His eyes boggled at the sight of her palm. "AAAH! Black Spot! Black Spot!" He let her hand go as though she had the plague and began gawping frantically at his own hands lest it rub off.

Ragetti jumped back with a cry of alarm, like a maid who had seen a rat, lest he somehow be affected by the Black Spot. He was so startled, his eye popped out, but luckily he caught it before it hit the deck. "S-she'll bring Davy Jones 'pon us!" he whimpered.

Mr Redbloom was dashed, confused and overwhelmed. The ship was behaving very oddly. He had worked himself into to one of his rages again and was attempting to hold it back. Quickly he swivelled about and barked sharply: "What is going on men! First Mate, why are you fraternizing, and why are you all off duty!" He stormed down the deck towards them. "Kestrel! The wheel! Bearing of twenty-five degrees north-by-north west! You two! What is the game....hmmmm!??" He flicked the stub of his cigar at Ragetti. "Well? ... don't let me down boys...what is your little giggle about?" _Calm...calm...calm...nothing has gone wrong....yet._

Ragetti yelped at the ashes that were flicked at him. He didn't like hot things landing on him, not since that incident with Miss Swann and the hot coals from the bed warmer. He pointed at Kestrel with the hand that still held his wooden eye. "S-she's got the Black Spot, sir! She's gonna bring 'ol D-davy Jones 'pon us!" Ragetti said fearfully.

Looking over to the helm, Kestrel carefully stepped back towards it with the hope of all her problems going away if she just did as she was told. Her movement was slow, since the mention of the 'Black Spot' was something she knew to be a terrible thing. But exactly what it brought about she didn't have a clue.

"It's no concern of yours!" she shouted at the lower pirates. "Get back to work and I'll get back to mine!"

"Sure," Ragetti muttered, rolling his eye in his hand. "No concern 'o ours till the _Dutchman_ comes and takes 'er and the rest 'o us away like wot it did ta Sparrow." He looked to Pintel. "Ya think we can avoid bein' takin' aboard tha ship twice?"

Pintel shook his head. "Not likely, knowin' our luck," he said. Without asking, he took Ragetti's sword from its sheath and pointed it towards Kestrel. "Throw 'er overboard, Cap'n!" he cried to Redbloom. "She'll doom us all wi' that there mark. If Jones 'imself don't come for 'er, he might well send his 'orrible monster instead!"

Mr Redbloom's ears plucked up at the sound of Jack's name. His mind began to churn, but sadly no results were forthcoming. He straightened his thinking cap (hat really) and turned to Pintel: "Planky! my lad...what is that you say about Jack Smarrow, spit it out! What is this _Dutchman _you are on about? Eh? and if this fellow _Dutchman_ comes to us with Jack then all the better. A friend of mine once told me about a flying dutchman. He reads entrails and drinks blood, so I would ignore his whitterings."

Ragetti gaped at Redbloom, blinking in disbelief. "Ya-ya don' know 'bout _Davy Jones_ an' the _Flying Dutchman_?"

"We shoulda' remained cursed," he muttered to Pintel. "A' least then, we 'ad nothin' to fear."

Nervous at the prospect of even having to speak of such things, Pintel gritted his teeth. He would have liked to talk quietly, but the sudden change in the weather on the horizon caused him to shout. "The _Flying Dutchman_ ain't a man. It's a ship, bigger'n the Pearl and a harrowing sight ter see. It don't fly, but it can sail underwater. The captain is Davy Jones, who I fort was just a myth but turns out he's real as the nose on me face. He makes deals wiv people over their life or something worth 'aving, and they promises their souls to 'im. When times come to collect, they gets the Black Spot and Jones comes for 'em.

"He's immortal too, no fighting with 'im. And if yer tries to run, he'll send your worst nightmare upon yer!"

Ragetti nodded, agreeing with the tale. Thunder rumbled across the sea and he put his wooden eye back in. Ragetti looked worried at the dark clouds on the horizon. There was a big storm coming... it was almost as if talking about Davy Jones was bringing the foul weather their way, and perhaps the _Dutchman_ with it.

"'There's a storm comin'," Ragetti said, fear still in his voice. "I-It's the work 'o Davy Jones. We shouldn't be talkin' 'bout 'im." He turned his one-eyed gaze to Kestrel. "'E's coming for 'er and we gotta get rid 'o 'er! Jones'll send the Kraken and we'll all be doomed!"

Mr Redbloom looked hastily in between the two vagabonds as they fretted and whimpered. Perhaps he had been a little delusional or perhaps he missed the point of the fellows' fears. "Don't worry lads...we'll find this _underwater_ boat, and we'll get your captain Jack back for you...and I shouldn't worry about young Eaglia Jones here. She has the mustard, I'll warrant, to abash any foe...black spot or no..." He thumped his cane upon deck, and accidentally struck his foot...

"AAAAAaaaaarg!" he cried in pain, and fell to the floor. "Though I suggest we drydock for a couple of days. There is an island a little distance away, full of rum and treasures - and I hope a friend and I shall meet. We head for land my friends. Full sail ahead. Aha HA!"

Ragetti still fidgeted slightly, but the idea to head toward land sounded like an extremely good one at the moment. He didn't bother trying to correct Redbloom, he just got to work. He still gave the girl a few worried side-glances, but there was nothing he could do about her now. "Jus' our luck, eh? We gets the _Pearl_ back and' we get stuck wit a capt'n like 'im and a girl wot's got the Black Spot!" he muttered. "I 'ope our fortunes improve on this island we're goin' to."

Kestrel nodded glumly at Redbloom's proposal, before taking herself away from the snide glances of the pirates. _No sooner do we touch land, I'll make a run for it or stay put_, she thought. _I ain't having no sea monster after me. What does he want with me anyhow?_

"You, the plump guy, on the wheel if you don't mind," she hissed to Pintel. "I need to gather my wits." She retired below deck. Perhaps the most inhuman thing aboard would seem more comforting than the foolishly brave and the foolishly weaselly.

Pintel grunted reluctantly and wandered off towards the helm, throwing after her a not-too-loud, "Fine, don't go falling overboard and saving the rest of our souls or nuffink." _Land. Oh sweet land_, he thought. _If only we could leave this old Redbloomers wossisname and the poppet stranded and run away wi' the Pearl_.

Mr Redbloom pondered awhile. He would have to forget Jack for now and head for the Isle of the Rum-Runners. _Poor old Oxo, he's probably been waiting for days._ "Swift Gentlemen... and Gentlelady. We must head for the centre of the rum business. To the Isle of the Rum-Runners! So say I! I do, damnit! Ha! Proceed with my orders you clouts!" He hadn't slept for some time. He always became excited and forwent his sleep. Alas…


	25. A Trap For The New Commodore

**A/N: **For any of you who have had a peek at the actual RPG, you may notice that some of these titles are not in fact threads at all. Some looked a bit samey or went on for quite a while, so I ended up making up a few of these. Oops.

**Chapter XXV: A Trap For The New Commodore**

In her hut, Tia reached into a jar of sand and took a great handful of it. She spread the sand across her table. She muttered the words to make the sand represent the sea. A stick became the canoe, a hunk of barnacled driftwood became the _Dutchman_ and a rock with a magical sign painted on it became her island. Now she would have a little control over the tides that might bring certain individuals to safety. Something in the back of her mind told her that the foul Leo who had visited her earlier was gone. She would have to ponder this later. She still had work to do.

Tia drew a line in the sand from the canoe/stick to the rock/island. Then she sat back and relaxed a little bit. A strong current would take Jack to her island. Then she could help him with another plan to find the _Pearl._ An albino python slithered over her shoulder and she petted the snake.

"We're probably going ta have ta get out da rum, hmmm? And someting else. Da storm gave me a headache."

The python hissed, understanding. Tia moved the stick closer to the rock.

*********************************************************************

As Jack narrowed his eyes at the change in winds, he was suddenly aware of a patch of wetness around his rump and boots. He was about to accuse either himself or his shipmate of incontinency until he noticed the small hole in the base of the canoe.

"Bugger."

Jack scooted forwards so he was sat almost on top of the leak and then stuffed the corner of his coat into the hole. He reached out and took Oaxacoco's hand, sticking the old man's finger into the plug to hold it still.

"Change o' plan, mate. Might 'ave to make a little detour before we make sail for your meeting place." He followed the wind, somewhat uncertain as to how welcome he would be upon the stretch of land to which they headed.

****************************************************************

It felt like they'd been travelling for days. Perhaps they had. At last it seemed that land was in sight. Pintel could hardly see over the helm from being so short but now he bounced up and down with glee.

"Cap'n! Look! It's the island on the horizon. We've made it, see!"

One of his eyes twinkled. _Soon the Pearl will be mine...and Ragetti's of course..._

Albannon lit up at the news of land._ Yes! Finally off this damn boat_! he thought. "Pikki and Spagetti, would you mind hurling that smelly Leadi fellow overboard...? Kesreal, make for land, and fast, this ship is on its last legs." He lit a cigar and smiled at the prospect of land. Even if he failed to mend the ship, Oxo might be there. _I hope for loyalty, though I guess it's unlikely... I would not be loyal either…_

Ragetti giggled softly, excited that soon he and Pintel would be left alone on the _Pearl._ He wanted Leo off the ship too, but to be frank he didn't want to go near the man. Still... best he were gone. But then Ragetti remembered something. "Pint, I don't tink we're gonna get too far wot wit the ship bein' all torn up below an' all."

From below deck, Kestrel let out a bloodcurdling shriek and barrelled upstairs. She flung herself to the rails and gagged for a few moments, gasping in the salty air.

Pintel had put on a sulky expression at the subject Ragetti had brought up. "Well, we's just gonna 'ave ter fix the Pearl up on shore some'ow and then find a way to leave the lot of 'em behind. Easy way or 'ard, tis up ter them." Just then he heard the scream and peered down to the deck where the boyishly-dressed woman was now standing. "Wot'sa matter wiv 'er now?" he said loudly.

Redbloom heard the scream from below deck and jolted from his day-dream. He looked sharply toward the disturbance and gurned a long gurn upon the deck below. He walked over slowly and cast his eyes to the hold. He grimaced and scratched his beard... He felt a little out of the loop.

"Hmmm...?" He clasped his cane and unscrewed the cap, revealing a small compartment. From it he whisked a small paper pellet with a fuse at one end. "Gentlemen, ladies, fellows and searats..." He lit the fuse. "... I wonder if you would answer a question..." He hurled the pellet at the ground. It exploded with a pop, flash and a crackle. "What, I call you to answer, is going on!"

Kestrel near jumped out of her skin at the sound, but luckily was shocked into feeling somewhat less sick. She looked to Redbloom, face pale. "It's Mr di Giovanni, sir. He's...he's..." She took a moment to stop herself retching. "_Disintegrated._ I...I just went below deck for a moment and he was just there...well, pieces of him...oh it's horrible! And then something awful brushed against me, I thought, so I ran."

Redbloom stifled a laugh, then beamed at Kestrel. "Well, I shouldn't worry too much, yes, we should be making landfall soon. When Jack Deflarrow returns, he may clean his own ship. I wonder what ever happened to him...? He was going to give me a job at one point, haha. Yes. Well I hope he will be eager to seek me out, what with the offer I made him. Indeed, I hope I should not lose you as I did him, Kestrel. Though I would warn against any attachment to smelly men who disintegrate in future. Well! To the helm, gentlemen and ladies, we shall be landing soon. Ha. Hmmmm...yes!"

He tipped his hat and knocked Kestrel's hat off with his cane, before leaping back up the deck.

***********************************************************

Once the _Kaelas_ had sailed far enough away from Tortuga, she had come to a halt by orders of her captain. Surreal had only given the order when she felt that they would be able to make a decent escape if needed. She had also picked this spot, as her new foe, of whom she was unsure, would have to pass them to get to Tortuga. Surreal smiled inwardly as she examined all the maps and her notations. Suddenly an idea came to her about how to get the element of surprise.

"Titan!" she shouted. "Get your arse in here!"

He sped into the room. He looked as though he just run the length of the ship, not that she would have been surprised if he had. They were in her cabin for a full hour while they discussed her idea until she dismissed him. Once left alone she quickly finished the last few things for her idea to work. She then appeared out on deck, but made sure that she wouldn't be seen by anyone while they waited.

_La Réve_ crashed through the sea. The wind was with them, and they were moving at a very good pace. Commodore Herbald was called from his cabin where he was studying maps of the islands.

"A ship has been spotted, sir," Stewart reported. "Still too far away to tell if they're friend or foe."

Herbald took the spyglass and trained it on the horizon. He saw the ship, but what Stewart said was true. They were still too far away.

"Then let's get closer, Lieutenant. I want a positive identification of this ship."

"Yes sir!" Stewart set about delivering the orders.

Aboard the _Kaelas,_ Titan watched the horizon with interest. As soon as he spotted the ship, he called for Surreal so that they could set the plan in motion.

Having heard Titan's call, Surreal ran out onto the deck. "Do we know if it's them?" she asked, while she prepared to dive into the water. Before Titan could identify the ship, Surreal had already dived in. She didn't swim very far as she kept herself hidden from the approaching ship.

_Well, if this is going to work, it's going to have to be pulled off perfectly_, he thought coldly. Titan barked orders for the crew to make sail. Their heading was the unknown ship. Titan just hoped that Surreal could pull this off without his help, as he was needed aboard the ship.

As they got closer, the Commodore was able to tell something about the ship's identification.

"She's Asian, sir," Stewart noticed, looking through a spyglass of his own. "No doubt about it. Look at the sails."

"Yes she is, but let's not jump to conclusions, Lieutenant," Herbald advised. "She could be an innocent trader. We're looking for the ship's name; _Kaelas_. K-a-e-l-a-s. And don't forget the female captain, Surreal SaDiablo. Apparently, she's quite tricky. Best keep your wits about you, Stewart."

"Yes, sir."

Surreal was quite enjoying herself despite the circumstances. Because the _Kaelas_ was set on an interception course, she had no option but to be dragged along by her ship, so that she could stay out of sight. As she was being dragged, Surreal checked that she still had Kaetien, for she moved through the water pretty roughly.

"What do you bet that I'll end up with loads of bruises from this stunt," she muttered. She knew well that she could have shouted it and no-one would have heard her over the sound of the ocean. The crew aboard the _Kaelas_ had just finished all the preparations that Titan had asked of them.

Titan however stood at the helm, and watched the ship approach. Inwardly he worried about Surreal, but seeing as this was her idea he would leave her to it. The _Kaelas_ was now close enough to the _La Réve_ that Titan could make out her captain. "Ahoy there!" he shouted as the ships closed in on each other. "Lower the anchor!" he then yelled at the crew. The _Kaelas _was once again at a stand still. _Now it's their move_, Titan thought sourly.

At last, the ship was close enough. Commodore Herbald could even hear a voice drifting across the gap between the ships. The Commodore ordered his ship be brought to a halt. He didn't see any women on board, but he had seen the ship's name. It was the _Kaelas_.

"Shall we raise our flag, sir?" Stewart asked, a little nervous.

"Yes, Lieutenant. And tell the crew to be ready for an attack, but do it quietly."

And so the naval Union Jack was raised. There was no mistaking _La Réve_ now for what she was.

"Ahoy!" Herbald called to the other ship. "What is your business in these waters? Strike your colours!"

"You heard him men. Strike up the colours!" Titan shouted. He smiled and laughed to himself. "This will be fun," he murmured. The crew at once raised the flag, though Titan knew that the captain of the other ship would not know what it stood for, seeing as it was the mark of the Dae La Mon. The flag showed two white tigers facing each other on a blood red background. A mark which only two members of this crew carried, Surreal and him. It was a custom that those from the Dae La Mon would have their mark tattooed upon them. The choice was theirs as regards to where. "There's our colours, and our business has nothing to concern you!" Titan sneered. "What's your business here?" he asked even though he already knew why they were here.

Meanwhile Surreal was already aboard _La Réve_. She had boarded unnoticed by the crew. She found a spot in the captain's quarters and hid, as she listened intently to what was happening between the two captains.

The commodore's blood boiled. How _dare_ these pirates taunt him like this! "My business here is to rid these waters of pirate filth! In the name of the King, I command that you surrender!"

Meanwhile, one of the junior officers thought he had spotted some movement in the commodore's cabin. He knew that if he got caught out of line he would be punished, but the feeling that something was wrong wouldn't leave him alone, so he dared to peek in one of the windows to see if there was anyone inside.

"Damn," she hissed as she spotted one of the crew look towards where she was hidden. _Just great, now I need a quick change of plan_, she thought as she disappeared out the window she had entered. She then climbed up to where the captain was. While Surreal climbed she calculated her actions and decided that attack was the only option. As soon as she had the captain in her sights she unsheathed Kaetien and charged at him. However, she did not do what any of the crew would have expected. Instead of issuing him with a death blow, she grabbed him from behind and held him with Kaetien across his neck whilst she used his body as a shield.

"Now, captain, I'd be the one you seek. What's say you and I have a little chat in your cabin?" she whispered in his ear.

If Herbald thought he was mad before...

His body froze. All around him, his men drew their swords and guns but knew they couldn't attack without harming their leader.

"That's _Commodore,_" he stressed his title. "And I suppose you leave me with little choice, Miss SaDiablo." Herbald surprised himself with how calm he was. _If I live through this, I'm going to need a strong drink, _he thought to himself.

"Oops, my mistake, _Commodore_." She smirked as she pushed him towards the cabin. As they passed the crew, Surreal glared at a few of them so that they would move out the way. Once inside the cabin, Surreal released Herbald. "Well, Commodore," she smirked, "the next move is yours, though I will tell you that I'm an assassin, a pretty darn good one, so no funny business. Why are you searching for me?" she asked, never taking her eyes from him.

Commodore Herbald swallowed slightly. His heart was pounding, but his voice strong and calm. "Yes, I was aware of your profession, Miss SaDiablo. I am Commodore Herbald and I was searching for you so that I could catch you, take you into custody, and then you would pay for your crimes as a pirate. I know that it was you who commandeered the _Dauntless_ recently, and although the ship was returned, you must still pay the consequences."

Surreal burst out in hysterics. "You're joking right?" she chuckled. "Take me in? Really?" On a more serious note she carried on, "Well, sugar, I see a little flaw in your plan. You see you sound a little certain that I will come quickly, but I'm afraid that you will never take me quietly. As you might have noticed I have never been caught, and I also don't plan to be caught. Especially from a pathetic man, who's probably never used a sword in combat." She smiled sweetly but sheathed Kaetien. "Well now that I have your attention, let's do business. As you might have guessed I have been hired by your superiors on more than one occasion." She sat down in one of the chairs in the cabin and looked up at the commodore expectantly. "A drink would be nice, you know," she said.

Herbald fought the urge to do something rash. Fine. Let the pirate think he couldn't wield a sword. She would be sorry she underestimated him. His fingers itched to grab his sword from its sheath at his waist or his pistol and show SaDiablo some manners. However, he had to admit he didn't like the look of her sword. And she probably _was_ better with it than he was with his. It also bothered him that she had been hired by his superiors. He had heard whispers about that, but now it seemed those whispers were true. Even so...

"You can hardly expect me to offer you a drink after you intruded on my ship, nor should you expect me to want to do any business with you short of the type that would result with you meeting the gallows."

"I wasn't asking sugar." She glanced over her shoulder at him and smiled. "A scotch would be nice if you have one." She waited a few beats before she continued. "Now as I've previously said, the only way you'll get me to the gallows is dead. The only business I have with you is to find out what the bounty is on my head." As she was seated with her back to the Commodore she spared one more glance and raised her eyebrow while she waited for her drink.

Commodore Herbald reluctantly walked over to his drinks cabinet. It was going against everything he believed in to give Surreal a drink. "If you _must_ know, the bounty on your head is of little concern to me," he said. "It is my personal vendetta against all pirates that is fuelling my quest."

"Now, sugar, do I look like a pirate to you?" she indicated to her attire then continued, "Seeing as you're not here for the bounty, but for personal reasons, I'll vacate your ship." In one swift movement she passed the commodore, though once at the door she glanced back.

"Pray that we never meet again. If you cross my path again, getting me a drink will be the least of your problems. You'll learn why I'm an assassin!" She waited a couple of beats for her threat to sink in before she added, "Good day Commodore!" Having left the Commodore's cabin Surreal made her way across to her ship.

Once aboard the Kaelas she shouted, "Set sail!" She made her way into her cabin and glanced at the maps that were left upon her desk.

"Bloody hell, where should I be heading?" she murmured as she studied the maps. She removed her pendant from her neck, held it above one of the maps and muttered a small incantation. The red jewel on her pendant shone brightly when held above an area of very dark power. "Titan, get your arse in here before I flay it!"

Titan charged into Surreal's cabin, nearly crashing into her desk when he tried to come to a stop. "What's wrong?" he asked anxiously. He stopped her from replying when he noticed that her pendant glowed while she held it above the map. "What in the name of hell are you doing?" he demanded.

"Don't you dare take that tone with me!" she bristled. "I shouted you in here as we need to change our heading. I wish to go here." She indicated to the area on the map that glowed a dark blood red from the pendant that was held above it. "I know that there will be a very dark power here but I think that I need to find the source of it." At that she dismissed Titan and poured herself a glass of whiskey.

Accepting his dismissal Titan headed out of her cabin and relayed her orders to the crew. After he felt satisfied that they were headed in the right direction he made his way below deck. As he walked the depths of the ship he came to a shocking stop as he nearly fell over a man fast asleep on the floor. Titan looked closely at the man and realized that it was the stowaway Blake.

"Damn," he hissed. He made the decision to move Blake to keep him out of harms way. He called over some of the crew to help him take Blake up to the deck. "Sorry mate, but if Surreal finds you, you'll be mince meat. You've got a better chance of survival in the ocean than on this ship," he said and with that Titan threw Blake overboard. "Good luck, mate!" he muttered as he made his way back to the helm, before Surreal noticed his absence.

*********************************************

Back on the _Réve_, Commodore Herbald could not believe his luck, and his misfortune. He knew he was lucky he and the rest of his crew were still alive, but he was still fuming that Surreal had taken such advantage of him, embarrassing him by coming aboard his own ship. He had missed his chance to have this dangerous pirate arrested. He sighed heavily and sat down.

Stewart knocked politely on the door to the cabin, wanting to make sure the Commodore was alright.

"Come in," Herbald answered.

"Commodore? Are you all right, sir?"

"Yes, physically, I'm fine, Lieutenant. But it would be greatly appreciated if this incident were never brought up again, is that clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good." The Commodore poured himself a good, stiff drink.

"What is our next heading, sir?" the Lieutenant asked.

"We'll go to Tortuga. Pick up some scoundrels and take them back to Port Royal."

"Yes sir."

The Lieutenant left to give those instructions to the helmsman.


	26. The Monster Wakes

**Chapter XXVI: The Monster Wakes**

Pintel guided the _Black Pearl_ a little awkwardly alongside the isle's shoreline. "Cap'n, do yer fink we should anchor here? Bed's startin' to get a bit shallow. Don't wanna bring 'er too far in in case there's trouble and we needs to get away quickly, eh?"

Ragetti had to suppress a giggle as he helped Pintel guide the ship closer to the island. Leo was no more, and if all went well, neither would the girl with the Black Spot and their incompetent captain. He recognized the island as the one they dumped Jack on, but saying that out loud might tip the others off. He couldn't help but notice the lack of foliage since their last trip.

"Look a' the burnt trees! Wot in the blazes 'appened 'ere?"

Redbloom sneered a little upon seeing the burnt out island. _Imbeciles!_ He hoped that Oaxacoco's hiding place was still here. He also hoped the Aztec would show up soon. He straightened his hat, and lit a cigar.

"Well, gentlemen! The ship is landed. I want you all off at the double." He brandished his cane wildly at Ragetti. "You, Serengeti, I want a full inspection of the ship. Kestrole, you aid him and could you come with me master Wingtel?" He thrust his cane into Pintel's back and pushed him foward.

True enough the isle had charred remnants where someone had burnt a considerable amount of wood some months back, however there were signs - which the crew of the _Pearl_ were yet to see - that the rum trade had since revisited. Pintel cursed inwardly at being asked to leave the ship. "B-but sir, she's a girl! She probably won't know nuffink about tending to a scuppered ship," he protested, but not too loudly.

"Yeah!" Ragetti agreed, not wanting to be separated from Pintel. He took a step back lest Redbloom swing his cane at him again.

Kestrel straightened her hat back into position as she frowned at Redbloom. "You must be joking thinkin' I'll stay onboard this piece of scrap, especially with that..._mess_ downstairs. Not that I'm ever going to be hungry ever again after seeing that but...did anyone think to bring any food?"

Redbloom had forgotten food in his hurry and flood of excitement. _Oh well_, he thought. _It may be over_.

"There is no food, at least not on my watch. Ha. I am afraid that we shall have to starve or eat each other pending rescue or repair." He pondered whether Oaxacoco had been and gone. "Alas, I think some of us shall die out here. Let us hope the rum business is still in affect on this island. As I say gentlemen and lady... let us work upon our problem and not dwell upon it, hmmm?" He advanced on the trio waving his cane ferociously. "Castrol, with me now... you two, on with the ship! I want it at least sound by daybreak tomorrow. Now, before I eat all of you. As a man with castaway experience, _I know_. So I would advise heeding my words carefully."

Wobbling in her unladylike boots, Kestrel clambered down to the sandy beach. "It could be that your friend found some food on this place and is having a hearty picnic as we speak," she grumbled to Redbloom. Glancing again at her marked hand, she muttered, "And I still want to know what this unsightly thing means and how I can get rid of it."

Pintel rubbed his hands together. "Firs' things first, we needs ter get rid o' that 'orrible stench below deck. If'n Cap'n Jack really is on this island, 'e won't be too pleased that 'is ship's sullied. Wossmore, if we are able to nick off wiv 'er, I ain't sailin' wi' that awful smell." He opened a crate on the deck, took out a mop and offered it to Ragetti. "I'd best be off ter look fer wood ter patch 'er up."

As he turned to disembark, the _Pearl_ gave a disconcerting groan.

"What the -?"

Jack the monkey was not a happy bunny...but then, no one ever called a happy bunny is actually happy or a bunny...

*ahem*

Jack the monkey disapproved of his situation. After scrabbling out of the confines of a box he'd hidden in but with the lid weighted down by a dismembered knee-bone, he gagged at the terrible smell filling his cute little nose. Again he was alone, and it was getting him down. Damn these humane feelings brought on by the curse!

Squeaking in self-pity, he bounded up the steps of the hold and scampered right into Pintel's legs.

"SCREEECH!"

Pintel clamped his hands over his ears at the monkey's screech. When the noise had stopped, he made a grab for the beast's tail.

"Gah! C'mere you liddle fiend!"

Distracted by this seemingly normal creature, he did not sense the change in the winds, nor did he see the looming vessel that burst into the horizon's mists.

As the dull boom of the Kraken's wake-up call sounded beneath him, Jones glowered at the island far across the bow.

"Yew barrgained your way out of a lifetime of serrvitude. Your contract no longer stands. Let's see if yew can find mai chest without your beloved _Pearl_ to sail."

Around him, the few crewmembers not slaving at the oars below nor crawling through the rigging echoed hideous laughter.

Something told Redbloom that his situation was only going to get worse. _Alas, I shall have to rid myself of the ship and the two ragamuffins_. He strode onwards into the island, eyes searching, trying to remember.

"Kastrol! It would appear I have entirely forgotten my way around this place. It has been an age since I have been anywhere but..." He shuddered "...that island. "There must be a way to remember. Alas I am all out of ideas it would seem. Ah! And I was improvising so well."  
He pondered, straightened his hat, then his lapels... and finally gritted his teeth. "Well, young lady...hmmm? Any ideas?"

Trying to ignore the fact that she had been called something that sounded not unlike what people would call cough syrup in the far future, Kestrel squinted through the setting sun at the island. "Well it doesn't look a very big island. Maybe if we walk in a little way, you'll see something you recognise and trigger your memory?" Behind her, the _Pearl_ gave another groan as the tide chopped eerily at its hull. She shivered.

There was a loud _WHUMP_ as something bashed into the side of the _Black Pearl_. She lurched over and hurled Pintel flat onto the beach. Spitting out sand, he looked back to the ship's deck to see if his friend was all right. "What in the name o' Satan an' all 'is little devils was that?"

Albannon was annoyed slightly at the simplicity of Kestrel's reply. He grinned inanely, bowed down and said, "Well then, young lady, why don't you lead the way. Since you know so much, hmmm? I can see I am going to get tired and annoyed if we hang around here any longer." He lit a match, let it burn to his fingertip then blew it out. "I wonder who burnt this place. Oh Wishbone! I do like the smell of fresh fire..." He smiled and stood up and breathed in deep. "Well, Kastry, let us be off, and on our way...as they say. I am not sure who _they_ are but there you go... "

From beneath the waves, the great leviathan, the Kraken, reared its grotesque head and roared. Realising its prey was not aboard the ship, it skirted the shoreline and shot two of its tentacles towards the girl on the beach. Several other of its arms slithered over the deck of the _Pearl_ to give itself balance.

Kestrel heard a cry from the shore and turned at the sound of the _Pearl_ groaning. She caught sight of the monster and gawped in terror.

"OHMYGOD!"

She bolted for the trees but a slimy tentacle snatched her ankle and tripped her up.

Despite being undead, Jack the monkey was terrified. With an ear-splitting screech, he flung himself to the shore and scampered off into the trees.

Ragetti had entered a state of panic, but something in him decided to fight back. If they didn't get the Kraken's tentacles off the ship, they would go down. Ragetti found an axe and looked to Pintel.

Pintel stood gaping at Ragetti's determination to fight. "Throw the girl into the sea! It only wants 'er!" he roared. He looked murderously across the shore at Kestrel.

Albannon fell flat, attempting to sidestep an offending tentacle tactfully. He crashed to the ground and sand fell in his eyes. "Arrrg!" he cried "Dash, flabber and curse it!" Up he got, and looked at the scene ahead. _Win or Lose? The land or the sea?_ He gritted his teeth, dispensed with his jacket and secured his hat, before clasping his cane and charging on forth. "Ketol! Dettol, Metal, besta! KESTREL! HaHa! Yes! Raggamuffins! You have offended me! Ketreel! Get over here now!" He hurled his cane at the lashing tentacle. "Ha! Yes, you cannot falter! I am Albannon Redbloom and I command you leave. Take these ratty pirates with you!" He ran in and reached to grab Kestrel...

The Kraken roared underwater, spray blasting from the beach. It loosed its hold on the _Pearl_, springing it back upright. Its reaching tentacle missed Kestrel by a hair's breadth as she was snatched out of its grasp. Sulkily, the great monster ripped a charred tree from its roots and hurled it across the beach before it began skirting the island, waiting for its prey to get near enough.

The breath was knocked out of her, as Kestrel was dragged suddenly out of the path of the monster's grasp. She had not even heard Pintel's cries. Finally gaining her senses, she broke free of Redbloom and bolted headlong into the trees.

Redbloom was stunned by his unlikely success in the matter, and was confused as to how he was still alive. He let these thoughts go as he realised that a hasty retreat, regroup, re-plan and re-decide was in order. Alas he had lost himself amidst a train of thought and had barely noticed Kestrel's departure. _I'm going to go somewhere that isn't here_. He retrieved his cane and pondered a while, looked wildly around and charged headlong into the forest, knocking his head upon a tree. Bruised and indignant he got up, and walked slowly into the bushes trailing his coat behind.

Kestrel blundered out of the denser patch of trees and into a scorched clearing. She hadn't meant to veer closer to the shore again. Catching sight of the great sea-beast, she gasped and spun to escape to the trees. Her foot caught a hidden iron ring in the sand and she tripped, crashing headlong through a rotten trapdoor. She tumbled down into an ancient rum cellar and knocked her head on a not-so-dusty barrel.

Jones snarled as he peered through his spyglass at his furious but foolish pet. The _Black Pearl_ had found land and the Black Spot bearer had drawn the Kraken's attention from the ship.

"Hwho was that gerrul?" he growled. "Ai've made no deals with a woman. Not foor the like of an age, at least." His tentacles bristled with annoyance. He slammed the spyglass shut. "Drop anchor and douse canvas. We wait here until our new friends move. Keep a lookout foor Sparrow, else foor Stevens and Rathbone returning with him captive."

*****************************************************************

Meanwhile, aboard the _Kaelas,_ Surreal sat with her head in a mystical book, reading up on some rituals. She had already tried quite a few but alas none so far had given her any idea on what kind of power they were heading to. The pendant was never very specific and Surreal was worried about the kind of danger lay ahead. After she tried yet another ritual she gave up. Angry and tired, she headed to her cabinet and withdrew a bottle of whiskey. She poured herself a healthy glass and downed it in one. When she poured herself another one, she just held it in her hand while she watched the liquid swirl around the glass.

"Bugger it." Surreal downed the glass in her hand.

The _Kaelas_ was running low on supplies, so she decided it was best to stop off at the nearest port to stock up.

"Titan, I know that this a really stupid question, but where are we?" she asked once he had entered her cabin. Surreal had a feeling that they might be near Destiny Rocks, but the more she thought about it the more she changed her mind.

"Land Ho!" a member of crew shouted suddenly.

"What the-." Surreal was cut off as Titan ran out of her cabin. She followed closely on his heels.

As the _Kaelas_ moored at the island, Surreal couldn't shake the forbidden feeling that she held as soon as they had seen it. She murmured to herself as she looked out into the forest. It seemed too quiet. "Well men, I recommend that we don't stay here long. Titan, I want you to separate the crew into four teams, one of which I want to stay about the _Kaelas_. The other three will need to go in search for food." Surreal stood back and watched Titan follow her orders.

Once the teams were assembled Surreal sent them off into three different directions so that they could look for food. She, however, made one more trip into her cabin. She removed Kaetien from the cabinet, and a few more swords and knives. Once she felt satisfied that they were well equipped, she set off with Titan into the forest.

******************************************************************

Mr Albannon Redbloom had fallen into some scrapes in his time, but none that came so far out of his control. He had no idea what was going on, why there were tentacles or what could have possibly happened to Oaxacoco. He had seen many things but today he had seen something new.  
He slid his coat on and stroked his beard, carefully rolling his hat back atop his head. He had obtained a small leg wound in the tussle, which forced him to limp awkwardly onwards into the ash-bound woodlands.

The limp figure in the darkness of the rum cache roused. Kestrel looked about in the gloom, nursing the bump on her head. A small pool of light from the entrance showed the splintered remains of the stairs where the rotten trapdoor had come loose and smashed them.

"Fantastic." She got up, taking care not to smack into the barrels, and shouted up through the hole. "HELLO? Is anybody out there?" As she awaited a reply, she crept to the back of the store in search of an emergency shaft. _Smugglers would think of those, wouldn't they?_

Jack crouched low in the undergrowth, paws atop his furry head. What the hell was that thing with all the legs...arms...sucky things? He whimpered, wishing for a moment that his old master were here to sew up the tatters in his little pirate outfit. At that moment, the same pompous bearded man he'd seen on the _Pearl_ blundered into the trees and stepped on his tail. Jack the monkey shrieked and leapt onto the man's upper arm, digging his claws in with anger.

Davy Jones was not always a patient character. His tumescent head pulsed with a greater intensity as he watched the Kraken milling uselessly about the isle.

"Any sign of Sparrow?" he growled up to the lookout.

"Nay, Captain."

Jones snorted. _Ai cannot risk his survival, not hwhile he has both my key and the means to find my chest. A pirate can always find another ship, though he may prefer his own, he mused. _"Ai will not lose more men tae pointless escapades. One o' yew get out tae that isle and watch the one with my mark. The rest o' yew, sail for the Isla Cruces!"

A stream of "Aye, aye, Cap'n"s replied. There was a splash as one elected monster swam towards the isle. The vast hull of the _Flying Dutchman_ veered to the west and sped for its new destination.

A trip and a fall were the unfortunate future of our esteemed fellow, Albannon Redbloom as he stumbled through the woodlands, the ash sprinkling his hair. He fell upon his face and crashed through into a hole of which he was quite unaware. Wood fell and the ground shook. Albannon woke with a headache he could not quite deal with. He looked around his hole and scowled a little in pain. Then he passed out on the floor. Had his endeavours been in vain? He had seen a silhouette and noted it in his mind but now he was lost in the dreams throughout his thoughts. Perhaps he would awake, but he was jolly tired.

**********************************************************

After a long treacherous walk through the foliage Titan and Surreal came across an old broken down mill.

"Surreal, where the hell are we going?" Titan asked while he glanced around the opening to see what lay out there. "Wait...." he whispered as he grabbed Surreal's arm and dragged her down.

"What the hell was that for?" she hissed. Surreal wrenched her arm away from the Titan while she followed his gaze. There was nothing that jumped out at her that he should even be remotely wary of, but as it was Titan she felt like she owed him enough to find out what was wrong.  
"What is it?" she asked, as her senses heightened.

"Look, something doesn't feel right about this island. It hasn't since we arrived. I know that you feel it too, there's something unnatural here. The place is too deserted. We should have run into something by now, but there's nothing. Not even a bird or an insect." Titan turned so that they faced each other. "Look, let's go back to the ship and make our way back out to sea. We can quite easily stop off at another island to get supplies." He watched her while she absorbed this information.

"You don't think that I haven't noticed that? Everything about this island has got my hairs on end. So don't you dare start criticising me," she murmured as she scanned the surrounding area. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed movement near the mill. "Wait here..." Before Titan could stop her, she disappeared into the forest and worked her way closer to the mill.

On the horizon, the _Flying Dutchman _sailed towards the mysterious isle. Jones peered through his spyglass and saw the vision of the _Kaelas_.

"There is a ship moored at Cruces. The same one we brought Sparrow from. If he was aboarrd, better pray he has not found mai chest, or ai'll take anyone ai can doon with me, contrract or not!" he roared at his crew. "Bring me the other captive. Ai would have him tell me what he knows of that vessel."

Meanwhile unaware of the danger that approached, Surreal made her way quickly through the underbrush with her sword unsheathed to make for an easier kill. Once she was within feet of the mill, she sensed something was not right.

"Damn," she hissed as she ducked so as not to be seen.

Suddenly a bullet flew past her. In an instant Surreal changed for an attack. She stopped her swing within inches of her target's neck, only to realize that it was one of her crew. "What the hell were you thinking, firing upon me!?" she growled. "I could have killed you!" She didn't lower her sword.

Titan had watched the scene unfold. He had realized that it was one of their crew only seconds before Surreal. He took off towards the mill.

"You took your time," she said to Titan as he arrived. When she glanced at her crewmember, he hung his head in embarrassment. "You will stay out of my sight for a while. Now go find the rest. I want them at the ship by nightfall." He left as quickly as he could so that he didn't suffer anymore of her displeasure.

Surreal watched him leave as she sheathed her sword. Once he was out her of sight she turned to Titan. "Let's get out of here," she said as she headed back to the ship.

Titan sighed. Sometimes he thought he would never understand her.

The _Flying Dutchman _had drawn alongside the _Kaelas_, blocking her escape from the isle. Jones waited at the rails of his ship as he watched the sibling captains approach. Nearby, a few crewmembers were restraining a bruised Stubleg Morgan. He had been more defiant than Jones had expected.

"Roll out the cannons. Ai will not be bored with hostility. No secrets are tae be kept frrom me," he said, only within earshot of his crew.

As they approached Surreal swore out of anger. She had spotted another ship drawn alongside the _Kaelas_. "Titan..." She stopped herself before she even started. One look on his face told her all she needed to know. Without another word they swiftly made their way over to both ships. As they moved through the underbrush Surreal couldn't work out why the crew hadn't sounded the alarm, or why she had such an eerie feeling about this new ship.

"Screw reason!" Surreal snapped as she broke into a full run towards this new threat. Her pace quickened; her senses sharpened. Once she reached her full speed, she drew out Kaetien and clashed with one of the opposing crew. In her fury she didn't even notice his waterlogged appearance. His finer details were to her growing fury as she tried to remove her opponent's head.

In the furious battle that followed, Surreal never spotted that she had been surrounded until it was too late. One of the other crew charged her from behind. She was thrown powerfully to the floor. In only a space of a few seconds she regained her footing as she ignored the growing pain in her side. The crew member that threw her to the floor charged yet again. This time, however, Surreal faced his charge and used his own strength against him, throwing him over her shoulder. As the crew member flew through the air, Surreal flew at him with a devastating blow, taking his head with Kaetien, which she somehow was able to keep hold of. Whilst this happened the first crew member that she had charged at grabbed her from behind. As Surreal started to struggle, the creature that held her knocked her out with one blow.

"Help me carry her to the captain," he muttered to some of his fellow crew.


	27. Where In Hell?

**Chapter XXVII: Where In Hell…?**

_I....._

_Swoosh._

_...Feel..._

_Swoosh._

_So sick right about now..._

The tumultuous oceans that surrounded one tiny little longboat were not being kind to its inhabitant today, as new to the oceans in a small ship as she was. The grey-green waters churned and dipped, sending the light craft first up, then back down as it pitched and rocked dangerously on the high crests of dangerous waves, turning the sail-deprived boat only further into unknown waters.

And, below the oars, the packs of supplies, common items and other nautical things, curled a person. She hugged herself into a quaking ball, long ice-hued hair matted from dried sea salt and splayed oddly as the little figure tried to gain some warmth from the unforgiving boat deck. Shivering, exhausted and defeated, Jade Starfall lay soaking wet and freezing, alone, with nought but an old canvas messenger pouch hugged to her chest like some old teddy bear. Her bright green eyes half-closed and dimmed in pain, the girl just lay there, attempting to be as motionless as possible, and closed both eyes tightly, as if imagining herself elsewhere, under the same hot Caribbean sun, yet not frozen by the icy waters and the unmerciful zephyr that shaped the waves.

It had been three days since the…incident that had left her bereft of her ship and stuck in a longboat alone, with only some drinks, maps, food and the pouch to her name (that is, if you do not count the effects nearly always on her person…) and since then, her condition had only served to deteriorate. She was not used to the buck and pitch of such a small craft, and within moments of saving her own life, had instantly become seasick, not to mention aching from a cut on her ribs and a bruise over one eye. The water canteens were full, and she didn't feel thirsty; she had supplies enough for another week, but that did not daunt her, because she was not hungry. What she lacked was a warm towel, stove, medical supplies and someone to assist her out. No, she was on her own, in God knows what tract of ocean and at the mercy of whatever ship chanced across her before she could fully recover. The odds were staggering, to be honest…She closed her eyes even tighter and clasped the pouch with more determination.

Sniffing loudly, Jade took the time to open one eye just a crack and noted the appearance of something not unlike darkness…only with far more wood….And planking…the hull of a ship! Her craft bumped into it, and the reverberations echoed numbly through her frame, as she continued now to ignore it. If they were pirates, they would kill her. If they were the Navy, she would kill herself and save the trouble… if they were something else...it could be worse. Half-closing her eyes now, the shivering heap of sodden clothes and hair coughed violently and pawed water from its face, burying her head under one sleeve in order to seem inconspicuous.

_Oh, if Davy Jones could take me now…_

_******************************************  
_

The being in question glared down at the captive that his crew had hastily bound in chains and brought before him. She had done little harm, for the crewman she had decapitated was now busy screwing his head back onto his neck. Jones glanced aside at Morgan.

"So this is your _worthy_ Captain, lad? SaDiablo, a _gerrul_? Haha, haha!" His mirth was immediately taken over once more with his rage as he noticed the young woman began to stir. Jones reached down and gripped her throat between his pincers. "Hwhat is your purrpose on this island? And hwhat do yew know of Jack Sparrow?" he growled.

In an instant Surreal was wide awake even though she had a killer headache of sorts. _What the..._ she mused as she tried to take in her surroundings to give her an idea of where she was. She took her time before she focused on the thing before her and the pincer that was around her neck. Even though she felt groggy she knew that she had to watch what she told this creature.

"Purpose? Why would I have a bloody purpose?" she growled while she ignored the question about Jack. She was still too angry at him for stealing the _Kaelas,_ so she knew that if she spoke about him all her feelings would return. She knew that she couldn't afford to have anger cloud her judgment.

Jones searched her eyes, clutching harder with his pincers. "Are yew telling me yew came here not of your own accord but by mistake? Hwhy is it that ai find this hard to believe, lass? My new friend Morgan here came off your ship, which harboured _Jack Sparrow_. If yew are truly the owner of this vessel, ai would think yew would know when someone else took over the wheel, hmm?"

He cast a glance to two of his crew.

"Fetch hwhat I left here all those years ago. Hwhile Sparrow is loose, it is not safe."

They nodded, gave a quick smirk at Surreal, then dove into the waters and started swimming for the island.

At the mention of Morgan's name Surreal glanced over to see him, and one glance was enough for her reigned in temper to surface. _How could this thing of a captain have taken Morgan,_ she thought. _Screw how he got here, this thing in front of me is going down! _She brought her hand up to the pincer that grasped her neck. As she was held in place by her neck and surrounded, Surreal realized that she couldn't do anything to free herself while Morgan was held captive. As she contemplated a way of escape, her thoughts wandered over to Titan. She was unsure as to where he had got to. After a few quick calculations, Surreal turned her attention back to the thing in front of her.

'Oi Squid! What in the name of hell do you want with me?' she hissed.

Jones scowled at his captive. "Have ai not made this clear enough, lass? Ai want tae know the hwhereabouts of Jack Sparrow and don't persist in lying tae me that yew have not heard of him or ai will be sorely tempted tae -"

Having sensed something, Jones turned to look out to sea and dropped Surreal forcefully on the deck. Stomping over to the rails he looked down to see a battered scrap of a boat with a semi-conscious person on it. "Someone haul that thing on deck!" he roared at his somewhat diminished crew. Two per prisoner, one gone to fetch his chest, two stalking the shores of the rum isle and two presumably trailing Jack and the Aztec. Left were just over a score of his monstrous men. He couldn't afford to send any more off on foolish quests.

Jade still hadn't moved since the small craft bumped gently against the _Dutchman_ and remained bobbing there, drawn to the hull of the unnatural ship like some piece of metal stuck to a magnet. Still curled up and shivering, the brown-haired girl didn't even bother to show her face, too numb to care about the next few moments. Unless it was someone she knew or a normal merchant vessel, she was as good as dead in the hands of pirates and the Navy…or worse. Screwing her eyes shut tighter, Jade kept her face obscured by one long, grubby sleeve and sneezed loudly, feeling her own body heat diminishing with every second. She was _freezing_ to say the least, and then rather sharply, a voice cut across the cold, clear waters…

_"Someone haul that thing on deck!" _

She flushed suddenly, the hairs on the back of her neck risen with some sixth sense when she heard that voice. Unnerved, but no longer as cold with the sudden rush of adrenaline that brought some modicum of colour back into her face, she chanced to peer over the folds of her sleeve, formerly unaware that she was staring straight up at the sky. She swore viciously as the glaring light struck her sensitive eyes, and in an instant she was staring quietly again at the…timber…of the _Flying Dutchman_, trying to blink away the sunspots that blurred and marred her vision. Aware that some sort of rope ladder had clattered down to click sharply against the deck of her longboat, Jade sighed. And again. With some reserve of hidden energy, she struggled into a sitting position, leant weakly against the side of her little boat and staring out to see through her un-blackened eye. Another, deeper sigh passed her lips as the injury on her ribs prevented too far an inhalation of breath, and she slumped against the boat's low side, looking for all the world as half-conscious as she really was.

She pretended not to hear the light thump of boots that landed squarely behind her, nor make a move as it plodded towards her at a shambling gait to close the small gap. Her pistol was unloaded, and her sword would be far too restricted. The chances of her dagger working would also be debatable, so she decided that shock was the best tactic for now. Narrowing her bright green eyes against the sun's glare once more, she waited. The person's hand, however wet and cold it felt, clamped on her shoulder. Still she waited. Their other hand took her other shoulder, and he began to haul her to her booted feet. Now all she needed to do was wait…for her knees…to be straight.

And she moved.

Grabbing the hands of her assailant with her own, Jade used the momentum of her body to pitch forwards and bend over double, effectively shooting the surprised crewman into the water with a loud splash. Apparently satisfied as she watched a boot bob to the surface, she leant back on the rail with a dogged smile plastering her features. Had she not been so caught up in the elation, perhaps she would have paused to consider the hands that she had touched were even colder than her own, wet and slimy….

As Jade leant upon the railings, awaiting the man's head to pop above water for her to stamp at, that sixth sense tingled once more. Admittedly, it wasn't so much a sixth sense as one small part of her brain knocking on another and screaming 'Something's Wrong!' in a high-pitched wail. The boot-steps were far lighter, so she made the assumption that this next man was of lighter build, possibly shorter too, and that a punch wouldn't go amiss before she tipped him overboard. A small snarl escaping her throat, Jade whirled about in a streak of silver and blue, with one ring-adorned fist sailing towards where she anticipated her enemy's face to be…

And found her hand engulfed by a webbed, clawed mutation. Gasping in shock at the feeling that ran the length of her body, Jade stared, repulsed, as the strange…creature, more beast of the oceans than man, give what was probably intended to be an evil smile.  
She stood for several seconds in studded silence, staring up at…It…with a look of pure shock on her features. Twisting her hand so it was closer to her side, he spoke, voice akin to water rushing over pebbles.

"Cap'n asked me to get you on deck. Would you like to be conscious or not?"

Silently, Jade averted her gaze from the monster and looked towards the railings where her first victim had hauled himself out of the water, looking as dry as anything when he did so. Offering a fiendish smile to the girl, he motioned for his companion to begin up the ladder, and that he would follow, leaving Jade in the middle of her captors. Stopping to pick up her pouch, she slung it over one shoulder and began to climb.  
The higher she climbed up the side of the vessel, the slower she became as her injury became bothersome, and she began to wish she _had_ chosen unconsciousness. It would save her a lot of trouble, to say the least. Painfully slowly, she dragged herself hand over hand up the rungs of the barnacle-encrusted ship, and made the deck in an undignified heap of wet, cold clothing and wet hair. Staggering to her feet a little uncertainly, the girl's bright eyes missed nothing as she glanced about, from the dwindling crew, all as hellish as the next, to the two evident prisoners, and then the Captain. She winced. Shuffling her feet somewhat nervously, the brown-haired youngster swallowed a lump in her throat and tried to ignore the stares she was receiving, clearly being the youngest person aboard and perhaps the most colourfully dressed. Covering her injury with a subtle twitch that dragged her pouch to her chest, Jade squinted through her one eye and swore.

"Bugger."

If she had had any idea of the connotations that that particular word had with a certain notorious escaped pirate, who had commandeered a particular lady's vessel, she would never have uttered such words. As ignorant of that fact as she was, she was left virtually defenceless to whatever anger would spark from her first and only monosyllabic word.

Jones's eyes narrowed as he looked from Surreal to the new arrival, both women restrained by his grotesque crew.

_Hwell if this day isn't turning out to be the biggest farce..._ his thoughts grumbled. Women...he shuddered at the thought of them. Hurtful, deceitful little things. He could almost feel the space that should have beaten in his chest, but it was always a trick of the mind. Flaring suddenly inside, he snarled at his 'guests'.

"Ai want some responses before any more of mai time is wasted. Hwhat are yew doing near mai island?" He glared at Surreal and tapped her sheathed sword. "And yew are _not_ a pirate by trade, so hwhere is your ship's _real_ captain? Finally, I address this tae everyone hwhile they still have ears attached tae their heads....where is Jack Sparrow?"

Jade stood rather uneasily on the deck, flanked by her two captors and feeling bile rise in the back of her throat. These…creatures looked hideous, merged with all manner of aquatic life forms in ghastly and nightmarish ways. Averting her bright gaze to the decking (the only part of the ship she didn't feel ill to look at,) the brown-haired girl shifted weight from one deeply coloured boot to the others and waited quietly, trying to piece what was going on mentally. The cogs inside her brain whizzed at a breakneck pace the longer she listened and watched from her peripheral vision.

_His island…?_

Quietly, Jade tilted her head up and squinted towards the large landmass she had formerly been blind to. Severely wishing now, that her boat could have washed up just a bit further away, Jade wrenched her attention back to the matter at hand. He had some form of point, though Starfall wasn't about to argue with either of the taller, more ferocious looking…people. This other lady appeared to be far more dangerous than any regular captain, but when faced by this monster, she seemed no more than the prisoner she was, even when armed with a sword…

Monster of the seas….living aquatic life…doomed crew…Something sparked in Jade's brain - this was the legendary Davy Jones, wasn't it? The creature only talked about in hushed whispers from mouth to mouth. With bowed heads people would mutter about his cruelty, and lack of a heart, about his huge ship, unmatched against any craft on a windless day, and the multitude of doomed crewmen that served him in return for 100 years postponed death and the promise of peaceful rest. As this realisation came to light, the girl twitched visibly.

Jade paused and gave a tilt of her head. Staring through her blackened eye at the nightmarish captain who seemed to tower over her in height, she replied to break the silence, and possibly save a worse treatment than if there was no response.

"Jack Sparrow…? Not a bad sounding name. Who is he?"

Of course she had _heard_ of him…she thought…the name sparked something within her that seemed oddly familiar, though she had no idea whatsoever as to why she thought there was a brief remembrance. Of course, a lot of her mind had become fuzzy after the ship got destroyed.  
She glanced to the island and twitched again, before flashing Jones a weak, nervous smile, trying to keep her eyes off of the writing mass of tentacles he possessed.

"Err…any chance you could let the survivor of a shipwreck….go?"

Surreal watched events silently as she waited for an opportunity. She spared a glance at the new arrival and realized that, whoever this Captain was, he didn't wish to deal with women._ Well well well I can use this to my advantage, _she thought, as she decided how best to answer his question.

"Sugar, I AM the Captain of the _Kaelas_! Though you are correct in assuming that I am not a pirate!" At her last word she unsheathed her sword and held it in front of her like a trophy, though her eyes never left Jones. "Now, for the other problem, Jack Bloody Sparrow had stolen my ship when you had captured him as well as one of my crew members. As you could guess he's at the top of my list of things to be dealt with. However, you are coming in a very close second!" she snarled as she drew back Kaetien.

_Let's see what this squid has to say about that! I can't fight my way out of here. There's no telling where my crew is_. _I wonder if Titan got away_. _Damnit, there's nothing I can do, as any wrong move could put this girl in unnecessary danger_. _I wonder how she got here… _

All of these thoughts swirled around in Surreal's head as she tried to decide on the best course of action.

Jones continued to glare at Surreal, but was a little puzzled as to being referred to as "sugar". "Perhaps yew could be of some use tae me yet. Can ye vouch foor yourself as a better hunter than mai ocean-sighted crew? If so, I recommend yew consider undertaking a small task. As for yew -."

He whirled to face the soggy survivor.

"Yew are fortunate that had my ship not been here, yew would most likely have landed ashore. Thus your life does not count as endangered and ai cannot force yew into a contract of service. But...ai feel I must warn ye, good-natured creature that ai am...this island is no longer inhabited by the living. Must ai leave an able soul stranded and useless, or do ye have some serrvice tae offer?" The knowledge that his chest was being exhumed and close to being returned was giving Jones an alarming sense of generosity. So long as it benefited him one way or another.

Jade's expression turned stoic as she faced Jones with all the boldness left within her soul. Raising her chin defiantly to the sea monster, the brown-haired girl sniffed quietly and shot Surreal a glance from the corner of her eye, begging the other woman hold her silence long enough for her to cut a word in edgeways before she passed out. Now that the numbness shock afforded her was ebbing away softly, all the former sensations and reactions to not only pain, but temperature, were kicking in. Batting away the heavily webbed hand that clamped upon her shoulder, the girl offered Jones what she believed to be a rather mysterious grin.

"Why, sir, you doubt my powers? My abilities? Is it because of my age and the most unfortunate series of events that forced me here you think me unskilled? I require no hold of my sword, nor my dagger, to afford safety nor threat, or to have my flintlock ready in case you attack." Here she winked lazily to Surreal and tapped the backsword at her hip with a little clink - Jones' men had been so focused on bringing the girl aboard that they were yet to disarm the youngster of her possessions. Now her smile melted into a mask of ice, and her voice took on a businesslike air as she spoke to the taller, larger, and over all more able sailor before her, still shivering from the cold and dripping water onto the damp deck.

"I understand that both of y' want this…Jack Sparrow. Dead or found? You, ma'am, seem pretty certain, and you, sir…do not look so fond to hear his name either. Least I can do to get my freedom back…and a few medical supplies or a brazier, would be to find him for ye."

Here Jade made an unusual form of half-bow to Jones and proceeded to pad in no uncertain manner towards the ship's wheel, but more specifically a small, faded old map etched into the wood grain upon the map stand before the huge contraption, leaving small splashes of saltwater in her wake. Narrowing her eyes as all turned towards her, the unusual little girl began talking between herself and Jones in levels of noise, fingers running over the grain swiftly.

"Mmm, so you have suspicions that this Jack is on the island…Cruces, I think, yes? What you have made, sir, is the frequent misconception that all Sparrows fly south. Not so." Here she winked and began to work faster, bright eyes narrowed as she read all the unusual place names and reamed off logic she did not remember having previously. Still she went on with a vengeance, flushed with victory as her voice rose to an excited crescendo over the still deck. "Okay then…a man on the run will go the opposite way you think. Due North…a touch East takes us to…Port Royal. Nah, too close for a runner, they'd go farther than that…Next place, past that…Channel…Hannibal…Cannibal, is the word? Island, we get to the...AHA!"

Jade's finger had traced the path on a direct course for the bayou and Tia Dalma's shack, but before she reached the exact location, moved her finger away, clenching it into a fist. Hopefully she would have enough leverage by Jones' ignorance to Jack's whereabouts, but no matter if he had seen, she supposed. Turning upon the onlookers with a triumphant smile, she patted the map and winked, once more, to Jones in a sudden coarse version of corsair slang, teeth sparkling in her confident smirk.

"Yeah sure, sirrah; I kin drop 'im before noontime tomorrer if I had the mind to. Drop me off thereabouts an' I think I could find your man." She pointed to a vague location indiscreetly close to the shack, but offshore, and nodded to the squid like man with an air of wit she never possessed before. "Now the only question that remains…would you like him dead or alive, sir?"

She had been mentally struggling with saying that last phrase, in the fear that he would opt for the former, but with a flick of her mind, pressed it away: she could live with killing one man alone, silly girl…

Unless he was particularly worthy of keeping alive. It wasn't like she had much choice either. Now she stepped a few paces forwards, and as the ship gave an unexpected lurch on a particularly high wave, forced the youngster to stagger sideways and slam her against the railings. Grimacing in pain, the cold, wet girl clamped a hand over the ribs beneath her pouch, and removed the hand to witness only blood dripping onto the deck. Sailors who had forgotten possession of such liquid stared at her oddly, which made things all the worse. She snarled and clamped her hand back upon the gash, bright eyes misted lightly in pain as she grinned.

"I'll see to your man…IF….you can find me some bandages and a brazier to dry off next to. D'we have an accord, sir?"

Surreal just watched in silence as this child carried on, though she felt a little sympathy for her, as the gash upon her ribs was a nasty one.

_What is this girl doing_, she wondered, _even if I want Jack Sparrow alive_, _I want to be the one to kill him. _Seeing as all attention was upon the girl, whose name she still hadn't learned, Surreal took the opportunity to get close to Morgan. "How are you?" she whispered into his ear.

"I'm all right, Capt'n, sorry about giving up a bit of information, but Davy Jones doesn't know much," he replied.

At Davy Jones's name Surreal glared at Morgan. "Who in the hell is Davy Jones? Is there any way you can escape with your wounds?"

"I doubt it Capt'n, I can't even walk. What were you thinking?"

At his last question Surreal noticed that she was being watched. "Damn!" she hissed. She straightened and made her way slowly to the side of the ship so that she could stare out at the horizon, and the _Kaelas_. She held Kaetien still in her hand, as she still tried to piece together a plan that wouldn't get all three of them killed. Though she knew nothing of this girl, even in her career she would never harm a child. It was against all that she was. Out of the corner of her eyes she had seen Titan slowly making his way to the _Kaelas_.

"What in the hell are you doing?" she muttered under her breath, as it made no sense that he should be hiding. As questions and ideas formed into her head Surreal was totally oblivious to what was going on behind her.

Jones clicked his claws together as he weighed up his options. Out of the corner of his eye he watched a member of the _Dutchman_ clamber on deck bearing a dripping chest. His attention still on the younger girl, he beckoned to his crewman.

"Very well, lass, yew will do this task," he rumbled, taking his prized possession into his own grasp. "But ai want Sparrow alive foor now. Ai wouldn't want him tae escape to the End before we meet again. My men will take yew below deck. There is a hold where we keep oor more perishable cargoes, the sorts that mortals would trade their souls for when in dire need. Ai however offer yew this foor free since yew are under my services. Food, frresh water, materials, whatever yew please. But know this, I am not accustomed tae time spent long in the company of mortals, so abide by my rules."

Nodding to the two crewmen who were watching Jade, he then glanced towards the feistier female. Without crossing a board on the deck, he appeared immediately behind her. His octopus-like hand holding his chest, he flicked out his crab-claw... once, Kaetien clattered to the floor...twice, he hooked the claw under Surreal's chin. Jones's smug blue eyes looked calmly out at the figure picking his way across the shore. "Our discussion bores you, miss. Do tell hwhat could be so concerning about your stealthy friend..."

Surreal was unsure of what was worse, the fact that she was unarmed, or so to speak, as she still had her stiletto hidden, or that Titan had been spotted due to her incompetence. "What do you really want?" she asked with a barely concealed hatred. She glared at his claw under her chin before she stared into his eyes. _I need to buy Titan some time, plus I doubt that I could take on an entire crew with only my stiletto and sword_. _I may be a brilliant assassin, but not a bloody miracle worker_. As this was going through her head she waited for Davy to answer her question, though she had a feeling that he was just as unhappy at having her aboard, as she was.

"Well...?" she growled, as her patience was wearing very thin. This day had been a very long one indeed.

Jones allowed the smirk on his face to fade. "Hwhat ai want, lass, is for yew and your crew tae leave my island before ai choose tae slay the lot of yew. But if yew want tae find Sparrow as much as ai do, perhaps yew would help me and prevent me from diminishing your crew in size for wasting my time. Ai need as many guarantees as ai can get tae make sure he ends up in mai grasp, alive."

"Well, sugar." Surreal took a step back and pushed down upon his claw. "We might have a little snag there as I want him dead, but I'll be more than obliged to leave your island, as being here was a mistake. If I run across Sparrow, I will try my hardest not to kill him, but I'm making no promises. Now that that's straight I'll be off!" She crouched down to pick up Kaetien as she made her way to the side. "Don't worry about getting me a ride, I'll swim. However, I expect Morgan to be taken over to the _Kaelas_ immediately. Let's hope we never meet again!" she said sincerely, before she took off in a full run and she dived off the ship into the water. As she swam for the _Kaelas_ she wondered what Jack had done to Davy Jones for him to want him alive.

As Jones watched the minxish assassin swim away, one of his crewmen muttered beside him, bearing the chest.

"You want us ter go after 'er, Cap'n?"

"No," Davy Jones replied. "She is of little importance. She does not fear death and ai have mai chest. The debt Jack Sparrow be owing is at hand. Ai will send him tae the locker should he return tae my realms again!"

"Orders, Cap'n?"

Jones snatched the chest from the slimy member of his crew and cradled it. His senses reeled as the pounding within the steel box yearned to slot into the absence he felt deep beneath his ribs. He snarled with a sudden burst of anger.

"We sail away from here. Little can I do until Sparrow be found and ai know he will not wish to _be _found. With mai key and his compass ai cannot hope to hide the chest safely, but hwhile it is in my possession, he will not come for it." He stomped off in the direction of his cabin, his tentacles shuddering at the hideous feelings that developed in such proximity to his heart.

_Ai must be rid of this..._


	28. Old Friends

**Chapter XXVIII: Old Friends**

The _Kaelas'_ crew let down ropes to allow Surreal, Morgan and Titan to climb aboard.

"Well that was interesting," Surreal mumbled. She paced for a while, and then disappeared into her cabin so she could look at her maps. After a short while she strode back out to the helm. "Let's go visit an old friend. Sao Feng."

"Sao Feng…." Titan's face paled as he remembered their last encounter with the notorious pirate. "Why, Surreal? Don't you even remember what happened last time you two were face to face?"

Surreal didn't even spare Titan a glance as she carried on giving out orders. Titan grabbed Surreal and swung her around to face him, but at the same time he had her pinned to the mast.

"Answer me! Do you remember what happened last time?" he growled while he strengthened his grip, restricting her movement.

"Let me go!" she hissed as she tried to break free. After a few moments of struggling, she gave up. Titan knew how to pin her effectively, as she was unable to reach her blades. "Of course I bloody remember!" she snarled. With all her built-up anger she somehow overpowered Titan's grip. "I'm going to see him. We have unfinished business. Plus he owes me a favour or two!"

With that, she stalked away to her cabin once more, leaving Titan to stew.

***********************************************************

Having delivered Miss SaDiablo's crewman back in one piece, the _Dutchman_ and its crew sped across the buffeting waves of the vast sea. Jones snarled as he pounded the keys of his organ, tentacles slamming and yet gliding with a vicious grace. He knew other songs...but he only ever wanted to play one. It howled through him like an endless wind. He had cut out his heart only to find that his lament filled the crevice it left behind, and when reunited with that cursed chest in which he had bound his flesh, it only brought the meaning with it.

He glared savagely at the great box nearby. His crewman had thought to bring the whole thing...a chest that had a chest within it, buried under a myriad letters. He couldn't bear to read them. For now they served only to muffle the sound of the beating. At the height of his anguished revelry he stopped, leaving his music at a discordant note. The realisation of what he had held in his very hands finally struck him. That compass...the very thing he feared would bring about his destruction...with that in his possession, he could...

But he did not have it. Jack did. Jack Sparrow...that weaselly wretch...and he, Davy Jones, had sent a Black Spot messenger after him! The Kraken had been unleashed. Damn and blast, what a fool he was! His tentacles shuddered with rage. Jones stomped over to his cabin doors and threw them wide.

"Triple your speed! Search shores and sea! Ai must find Sparrow before he is taken to the Locker!" he roared.

*********************************************************

Oaxacoco was bewildered and entirely lost. He had heard nothing Jack had said. All life was a blur.

"Teeeellyt onactat el eet otyl lyax..."

He began to shudder, and passed unconscious. Violent nightmares thrashing into reality.

Jack winced at the unhelpfulness of the old man. He continued to row in the direction the wind was taking them. "North-east..." he muttered as he looked down at the open compass on his belt. "We're going upriver."

The waterlogged giant of a canoe drifted towards the mysterious isle off the western coast of Hispaniola.

After a while of sloshing around half asleep in the bottom of the boat, Oaxacoco awoke a little. He peered up at Jack who was doing a far better job of sailing than he. "Oaxacoco ees mi nam, gooed tow me-at yai." He sat up straight and leant over the side of the canoe (being slightly sick) and thrust his hand into the ocean. He withdrew his hand and with it a rather large fish. The fish writhing upon deck, he withdrew his ceremonial knife.

As he guided the canoe into the swamp leading to the witch doctor's abode, Jack grimaced at the awakened man's antics. "I 'ope you're not going to eat that, mate. We're lucky our rumps ain't been nibbled on in this craft." He kept a close eye on the trees either side as he drew the low-sailing vessel outside the shack."You got a rope 'ereabouts?"

The old priest seemed to ignore Jack's response entirely and focused his mind upon the fish. "OoooOOO....saptam eel oot yt tchoyti albeenit...alsyyeet eep oo ta!" He cut deep into the fish's flesh. It glowed, then began to melt away. After a moment it began to take the shape of an eel, then a snake, then finally a rope. "Ae rop yaw ast foor...wer awa wee?"

Jack shuddered as he took what once had been a snake and tied it to the prow of the canoe. Gingerly, he stepped onto the bank, wrung out the corner of his coat and then held out his hand to offer the Aztec assistance.

"'S been a long time since I've been around these parts. Let's 'ope I'm still welcome, eh?"

Oxo took Jack's hand gingerly, confused. He smelt something in the air... not quite right. He wondered and pondered what kind of magic was present. It did not feel like his kind. It mattered a lot to Oaxacoco. He had not been the same since the loss of his mask. The thought of another force of magic prying at him was not a happy one. But he would bear it.

"Caen wee doo dees kweek? Ay hav a me-ateen on ana ayelaend."

Jack nodded. "Aye mate, we'll be as quick as snails what have slippy boots on in a high wind." He knocked tentatively on the door of the shack before opening it and peering inside.

Tia knew that the canoe had been brought safely up her river. She quickly cleared away the sand and other materials from her table. She stood up as the door to her shack opened and a familiar face peered inside. Her black lips split into a smile.

"Jack Sparrow."

Jack smiled with as much charm as he could manage and pushed the door to its limit before strutting inside. "Dear Tia Dalma! Ever as beautiful as the most ruthless depths of the sea. How are yeh?" He took care to avoid the dangling snakes and roped vials in his path.

Tia stepped toward him. "I am well, but the effort it took ta save you from Davy Jones' grasp has given me an ache in da head. I should hope it was worth it." She gestured to the table. "Come, sit." Tia frowned slightly at Oaxacoco, sensing his own magic, but she knew she had the advantage of being on her home turf. (So to speak.)

A humble look on his face, Jack parked himself in the chair opposite Tia. He resisted the urge to place his boots on her table. "So 'twas you what caused that storm out there," he said. "It would seem we are in your debt."

Tia smiled. "It wouldn't be da first time." She opened a cupboard and after rummaging through some bottles of blood, preserved animal parts and some small live fish, she emerged with a bottle of rum. She placed it on the table for Jack and proceeded to brew herself some special tea. Some of the things she added to the tea would not be considered by many to be very nice... but it would ease her headache. "I'm sure you will come up with some kind of payment," Tia said to Jack, a smirk pulling on her lips as her tea boiled over a small fire. She cast another look at Oaxacoco. "And you, what is your story?"

A guilty look washed over Jack's face and he sat quiet, glancing over at his travelling companion. The shack's lantern light caught his eyes as he began calculating the old man's uses. One hand roamed towards the offered rum bottle. He plucked it delicately from the tabletop.

Oaxacoco looked at the hut surrounding him, It reminded him much of the homeliness of his own dwelling. Looking away into the ether, he clasped his cane tight. He sniffed and smiled. The wooden walls calmed his mind.

"Oace tlalao laxtee." He chuckled to himself, then responded, "Aye eam eenterestid tow howe manni kreechas yow hav. Eet es lohng seence ai healde ah snak."

Jack kept his gaze on Tia, nodding in mock sympathy for Oxo's plight. "It's just his way of saying he's a eunuch," he said quietly. "Years in the jungle have addled his mind, unlike yourself who remains eternally wary of her surroundings and may I say blooms like she was born from the very roots of this world." He smiled persistently, one hand tracing the table before him, his fingers slowly reaching to caress the tempting trinkets on its surface.

A noise from outside the shack made him withdraw his hand. Jones's crewmen had caught up!

Oaxacoco was lost in thoughts of snakes and reptiles and noticed little commotion. He waved his hands about his cane and whispered, "Tlyoet...cel..Xedtep." A small wormlike snake protruded from the top of his cane. He picked it up and waved it at Jack. "Snaek?"

The combined stress of listening to the approaching monsters outside and the lack of response from Tia Dalma, who seemed to be in some sort of shamanic trance, caused Jack's reaction to Oxo's snake to be rather extensive. He turned back to the strange little man who was waggling a serpent so close to his face that it looked like a gargantuan dinosaur.

"AAAAGHH!" Sparrow yelped and toppled off his chair.

From outside there was a sudden hush, then -

"Wot was that?"

Jack gasped. "Buggerbuggerbugger..." He scrambled up, hurried past the table, patted Tia affectionately on the shoulder and slipped past into the recesses of her shack. Peering from behind a ragged curtain, he beckoned hastily to Oxo to hide.

Oaxacoco was lost deeply in twirling his newly created magical pet between his fingers, when Jack's signal popped him back into reality. He shuddered and bolted upright sending the poor snake flying onto the floor. He leapt behind the curtain, and saw the creatures approach. _Not these again_ he thought, and he shed a tear for plight of his poor snake friend who had so recently popped into existence.

***************************************************

_"Very well, lass, yew will do this task. But ai want Sparrow alive for now. Ai wouldn't want him tae escape to the End before we meet again…."_

The words still made Jade cringe even several leagues away from the _Dutchman_ and alone in her longboat. It had been a long while since she departed from the ship with a full set of bandages and drier clothing than before, but still the words of the creature burned themselves into her brain like some form of brand.

_In his services…I don't like the sound of that, even now. Even then…_

She was recovering from her injuries, if slowly: the bandages had stopped her ribs aching so much, and she wasn't as cold any more; her black eye was going down slightly also, but the upshot of this was that she couldn't remember just what had occurred before meeting Jones to give her the injuries. Either she had lost that memory, or that…Thing and his crew had dominated her thoughts so much as to temporarily leave her dumbfounded. A small snarl, and she gave the tiller at the rear of the skiff a twitch - no, he wasn't that frightening. He had basically given into her demands, with little or no bargaining after her proposal, so what was wrong?

Possibly it was a guilt for this…Jack Sparrow man, with the name she found quite interesting; similar, yet vaguely so, she just didn't know why. He was to be brought back to that monster with her, to await his punishment- was it really all that fair on him? What had he done, apart from anger that other girl? The broad surface of the approaching river resembled flattened glass as her small craft glided like some elegant swan over the waters, guided under her none-too-certain hand around the intricate curves of the sweeping water mass.

She was in gloom now - trees hemmed the river in on all sides, casting dark reflections in the still water, grotesque parodies of the trees that stood along the banks. The humid air made Jade feel light-headed and dizzy, but with silent will, she forced herself to keep going into the dense, threatening jungle, in the hopes that she could find any piece of telltale evidence to Jack's whereabouts. The guilt struck again- what if this Jack wasn't so bad a man? What if Jones just had a personal vendetta - he would probably have her hunted down if she'd all but escaped the ship, let alone actually done anything to him.

Then again, she had no choice, and doubted that even when she was fully recovered she would have the opportunity to escape Jones if empty-handed. She had heard tales of Jones, but had refused to even bat an eyelid about them until earlier that day, and it made her sick to the stomach…

They all had had different tales of horrific crews, a massive ship that could go underwater, and a creature with tentacles on his face. But what irritated Jade most was that all of them had been _right. _

A snap of twigs to Jade's immediate left made the brightly dressed girl whirl around, hand reaching for her flintlock and heart pounding, aiming for whatever it was about to attac-

It was a lizard. Staring back at her from a protruding rock on the bank, with glazed reptilian eyes and a baleful expression on it's scaly maw, it flickered it's azure tongue once, received a hiss of agitation from the girl, and scurried away up the nearest tree without a backwards glance.  
Jade thudded back into her seat with a grumble, the flintlock still hanging loosely from one hand resting on her knee. Impassively, she flicked a strand of chocolate-brown hair away and blinked once, before the craft turned the next corner.

What Jade saw took her breath away. It was a shack in the river, above the water, and a ladder, with a platform for boats to dock at. Through the glowing windows unusual objects, tattered finery and candled could be seen, and a tiny snake slithered out underneath the doorway. What panicked her more was the back of the second crewman entering the shack immediately behind another, who was already gone from view - they were going to get Sparrow first!

Her craft was still some time away from the jetty - by then they would have him, and possibly kill him, which was _not_ a viable option for the new assassin. Standing up rather shakily in the pitching skiff, Jade raised her flintlock, pulled back the hammer and, without a pause for aim, shot.  
It hit on the mark, right between the shoulder-blades of the stunned creature, who toppled backwards slightly. Taking the time, now she was close enough, to jump onto the jetty, there was a pause as Jade stopped to wince from her injury, before tying up the skiff, which she noticed was now moored beside an unusual log-like thing…where _was_ this place?

Tentatively, Jade watched as the crewman eventually fell from his high perch and into the water, surfacing not all that far from where the girl was stood. The second crewman, confused, but close to his prey, poked his head out of the door and snarled. Purple boots thudding softly on the wood, Jade tried to think of the best way to explain herself, fumbling with the flintlock as she did so, and returning it to her belt.

"Err…go, Davy Jones sent me to retrieve Jack Sparrow alone."

"How d'we know yeh aint lying?"

"He said something about wanting to meet Jack before he reached the End or something. I'm in his service."

The distrustful eyes blinked back at her, before Jade lost her temper. Drawing her backsword this time, the girl slapped it against the timbers of her ship and roared to the crewmen as best as she could manage.

"G'wan, gerroffofit you great idiots!"

A pause, a glance between the crewmen, and they melted back into the shadows, hopefully, Jade supposed, away and back to the ship...  
She hoped. Now she would have to gain the pirate's trust. Hopefully getting rid of the crewmen and being all around as 'nice' as she could be would work. Taking the time now to climb up the ladder with great difficulty, Jade finally reached the large paned door and pushed it inwards a fraction, head poking about the doorframe, green eyes glittering eerily with the guttering candle light.

"'Ello…?"

Sword by her side, the young girl slipped around the door before coming face-to-face with the largest yellow python she had seen (having not noticed Tia Dalma as of yet) and yelped, staggering back against the now closed door. Chest heaving, Jade allowed a pause before venturing a call again, her hand now lightly touching the blue leopard carving about her neck. Green eyes flicked directly over the voodoo lady's shoulder to the curtains behind.

"Erm…Hello again!? I'd appreciate an answer within the next decade."

From his hiding place in Tia's store room, Jack heard the commotion followed by the voice calling out. He figured Tia was still in her trance.

"Sorry missy," he called out without showing himself. "We're closed. Ta for dropping in. Waiting for a new shipment o' trinkets and watsisthings, ya know how it is!" He held his breath, hoping that all these strangers would leave him in peace to pursue his own ideals.

"Oh really?" Jade's voice was surprise bordering on incredulity in response to the Captain's rather blunt statement. Brushing a bang of brown hair from her vision, she flicked her bright eyes around the rather disturbing room and felt suddenly rather nervous. She had no choice though, she'd have to see the deal through or face Jones again. At this point in time, a pit of wits against a simple pirate was far easier to overcome than the demon of the oceans.

Discovering a chair not too far away, laid on its back and looking rather despondent, she kicked it up into place and started at Tia again. She waved a hand in front and blinked - very little. Leaving the priestess to it, she spun the chair about to the door and sat upon it, arms folded across her chest somewhat moodily and one leg touching the floor, the other arched up and resting on the chair too. She wasn't about to let him escape - perhaps it just took a few careful words.

"Listen you thickhead-"

Bugger, that spoiled it. Cutting herself short, Jade proceeded to frown and massaged her temples rather, voice a barely audible whisper through clenched teeth. "All right, let's try and make an amicable settlement. Those people who were in here are gone, I got rid of 'em for yeh. Doesn't that at least give me some credit?"

Perhaps this Sparrow could be dealt with in a different way, she pondered. If HE could avoid Jones....

A small smile flitted across her face and the satchel opened, pulling out a pleasantly weighted bag of coins. Weighing them up in her hand, she spoke once more.

"An' I brought you the shipment o' coins. Feel up for a little bargain?"

Jack tapped his fingers together, trying to decide upon whether to step out from his hiding place. He rolled his eyes as he came to his conclusion. Motioning to Oxo to keep silent, he stood up and slinked into the girl's view. His eyes glazed for a moment at the sight of the money pouch, but he blinked the thoughts away.

"Whether it is that you did or did not frighten off those beasties, you and me both knows we're not here for something as simple as money. Takes a person to know where he or she is going to find this place. That or destiny, if you believe in such things." He grinned and approached her slowly, one boot heel touching the tip of the next as he walked in his swaying gait. He perched upon the side of the table and flourished his hand before Tia's face. "As you can see, the lady what runs this place is a trifle engaged. So if it's her services you're wanting...I'll gladly relieve you of your gold and you can take whatever's your fancy. Unless of course, I can be 'elping you with some other ... desire?" Jack smirked and tweaked the left strand of his moustache.

A triumphant smirk crossed Jade's face as Jack finally stepped out from hiding and, upon seeing her, deemed it safe to approach, to which the girl's hand instantly gripped the bag tighter. Jade quirked a pale eyebrow but said nothing, and simply watched with a mollified expression as the Captain seemed to stagger towards her with as much grace as a leglessly plastered donkey. When he had finally approached her, she wrinkled her nose slightly, under the impression that the unruly pirate's breath smelled like one too. Averting her face, though still curious, she sized him up from her peripheral vision, lest she offend him by retching. He had a slight build, taller and older then herself, though he harboured a relatively identical sense of dress-anything that looked pleasant enough to be worn that was comfortable and gave a sense of status. Eyeing the trinkets in his hair and the scarlet bandanna somewhat jealously compared to her old blue bandanna and scruffy, plain chocolate-brown hair, she frowned- he was even more familiar now- that expression spoke volumes to her, but still, she had no clue as to _why_ he either rang little whistles or alarm bells in her mind…

Anxious now, she sat back against the chair and blocked the door if only in order to reassure herself mentally of her control and sniggered - if he wasn't so filthy and slurred, he could be quite handsome…

What was she thinking?! Becoming even more awkward about the rather casual pirate, Jade decided for once to turn and face him-she didn't balk like she had expected; perhaps she had already become acclimatised to his breath. Trying, however, to breathe through her mouth surreptitiously, she listened to Jack with somewhat renewed interest.

The girl blinked in surprise at the voodoo priestess as she proceeded to stare blankly despite the pirate's brightly ringed hand waving not inches from her face. Unnerved by this show of Tia's 'engagement,' she shifted and began drumming her fingers on the coins, wondering exactly how this would play out-if she just spoke and prayed that the right words came out-

But no, Jack was speaking again, and smirking in a manner that made Jade twitch.

_"Unless of course, I can be 'elping you with some other ... desire?"_

If Jade had any less decorum, and she wasn't already mortified, she might have fallen off her chair either in shock or laughing her head off. Instead, she just narrowed both eyes a fraction and arched both eyebrows, her voice a patient snarl as if she had expected and was enduring this patiently, her tone slipping into vague threat for an instant and shadows forming under her eyes.

"Back off, Sparrow, I'm not in the mood for your humour."

Okay, that was a lie, and he could probably sense that under her threat, but should her plan work, then there would be plenty of time to annoy each other when he agreed to help her. Dropping her voice to a more reasonable level, she instead stood up from her seat and glanced around, then offered an easy smile.

"I have a…proposition…to make you. I'll explain it, but I want you to hear the story out before you start to make any jumps…" She searched for a phrase that might be familiar to him. "Savvy?"

Taking a deep breath, Jade explained in vague terms how she'd found herself through some circumstances involving her being left alone in a rowboat at sea (glossing over the fact that she had no idea how or why) on Davy Jones' ship, and commanded to go and fetch a man called Jack Sparrow in return for her life. Honesty wasn't usually the best policy to Jade, but right now she just prayed it would work.

"Now, I'm not one to panic, but I don't feel particularly safe knowing I have his wrath to face, but I managed to find you true enough…and I don't think I want to go back, with you or not, and go near that monster ever again. He had no clue where you were, so I assume you aren't half bad at avoiding him. Here's what I propose: I give you this money, and you don't go near Jones at gunpoint. In return, I'd like your help _and_ defence from fishface if he comes after me. If he does, by any chance, get you, I'll give you an 'and to get back out."

Standing in front of Jack now, she met the seated pirate eye to eye and smirked, then extended her hand cautiously.

"Do we 'ave an accord….?"

It was a hasty bargain, but one that could protect her from the creature she feared more, because, in honesty, she was too frightened to go anywhere near Jones, with Jack to hand in or not.

At the girl's sharpness, Jack's smile slowly faded but his less-than-stiff posture he retained. Any show of tenseness, anything above a lazy gaze might give away his instinct to run away, leaving everything behind him - including the crackpot Aztec. So she _had_ been sent by Jones after all. She wanted to avoid him too. Hah! This was certainly interesting. _Very interesting_. But if she had seen Jones, and Jones hadn't been taking better measures to find him...then perhaps she would know about the chest. Jones wasn't stupid. His best course of action was to reach the prize before Jack could unlock it, and he'd certainly had an ample headstart. What Jack wanted now and what he would need in the near future were entirely contradictory.

Jack reached out and clasped Jade's hand, as yet unaware that it might be possible for her to pass him the Spot. Unless that could only be given when a contract were breached or at its end...

"Agreed, but -!" He flicked out the index finger on his free hand. "I'd like to alter the accord a fraction. You get me and my old matey safely out of here, an' you can keep your gold for when we make port somewheres. Up and until then, you 'ave my word as a pirate that I'll do everything I can to see no harm comes to you. Once there, we rediscuss our terms. Oh and we leave a little payment for Tia." Again he gestured to the entranced shamanic beauty.

The flicker of triumph died somewhat as Jack's hand finally, after a few moments of deliberation, took hers in a shake. Despite the confidence Jade had felt at the new bargain and an opportunity to get back to the way things were, there was a deep sense of foreboding - like this man wasn't about to just slip in and out of her life that easily - he looked marked for trouble, from the way he stood to the way he grinned, to the way he…was still shaking her hand. She gave the hand in question a slight squeeze and gauged whether he took it as a threat before she pulled back, weighed her options, and felt that sense of apprehension weigh like a millstone in her chest; Jack would probably end up being more difficult to hold her bargain up to, but as if she had a choice.

The girl's gaze flitted uneasily to Tia Dalma and that same expression of fear and unsettlement suffused her face. After a few moments of silent contemplation, she sniffed almost frostily in a way, dropping the coin bag back into the pouch, adding to the clink of coins the rustling of thick wads of parchment.

"I don't suppose she takes gold, then, bein' a lady of magic, as 'twere…"

Jade racked her brains for a few moments as to what she could give the priestess (not having thought she needed to pay her herself but suspecting Jack most likely had nothing he was willing to dispense of) and leant on the tabletop, drumming her fingers lazily, the reflections of an old ring catching her attention. She stared wordlessly at the inanimate object on her finger, unable to ascertain exactly _why_ she would have any attachment to it whatsoever, and tugged the little band from her finger, the surface catching the light as she flicked it onto the tabletop alongside other items with a metallic chink. Averting her gaze and feeling somewhat cheated of any real service deserving payment from Tia, Jade turned about and began from the door, pondering the bargain she had made as she began to leave.

The girl tugged open the door, felt her sixth sense for danger tingle, and glanced over her shoulder to the occupants of the room, offering a groggy smile which showed off her teeth in quite the complimentary way - infact, they were very catlike, if anything. "You can grab your mate and we'll be off - I think my skiff can tow that canoe with us, if 's yours. I'll be right back - got to grab a few bits and pieces from the surrounding…erm…place, and all."

Without further word, the girl slid down the ladder and clattered to the jetty with a thump. Dropping off her weapons and the satchel of valuable items in the rocking vessel, she paused to glance to the canoe and considered lashing them up now, but decided it far more worth Jack bothering and made a short, undignified jump to the shore, after wading through some small shallows. She staggered through the thick, heavy-smelling jungle with something close to hatred. Keeping the bank in check at all times, she eventually pushed through into a clearing and shook leaves from her outfit, scanning the grasses for the flowers she wanted-they would be useful on her injury if she could find a few now…


	29. Pain Is A Curious Thing

**A/N: **Here we introduce an awesome character. Alas his roleplayer has ceased playing, but if anyone is interested in taking over as him, check out the link to the RPG on me profile and send a message to Jade Starfall. Ta!

**Chapter XXIX: Pain Is A Curious Thing**

Albannon lay in a daze awhile. His thoughts and dreams wandered from his mind, and (if only for a second) he forgot his troubles and in fact his joys. He forgot all things. In this snippet of time he realised how foolish he had been. He passed unconscious for a while then awoke with a start.

"AH!...What!...hmmm...No, um yes... sleep. No! Indeed!"

His hands deftly plucked his beard. He rummaged for his hat and when it could not be found exclaimed: "Clamations! Damnations! Insurrection!"  
Then he looked down and in his lap it was, and always had been. "Well I do wrap myself into quite a bother, don't I! Ha!"

Up he stood and knocked his head upon the ceiling, and just then he noticed he was not alone.

"Indeed sir, if you stalk the stalky path you will find yourself in trouble. Out of the darkness, or I shall strike the shadows!"

Kestrel stumbled out from one of the many tunnels of the underground rum cache. "Mr Redbloom?" she asked, gawping. Her temper suddenly flared. "How could you? You left me to go careering blindly off and didn't even follow the obvious course of avoiding my mistakes! At least what I fell down was all covered up but you must've just been drawn to a gaping hole!" She sighed. "Well, at least it's not so bad. That big _thing_ can't get me now and I think I found something back here."

Mr Redbloom could hardly contain his excitement. He pounced forth and slapped Kestrel sharply upon the back. "Good going, my girl, excellent, absolutely first rate. Ha ha!" He grabbed Kestrel by the shoulders and shook her, rather too vigorously. "We have alot of problems to solve, and mess to get out of... not to mention an island to escape. Well, look sharp, what is this morsel that you have found?"

Kestrel scowled at the incompetent fop. "Mr Redbloom, sir, would you please desist from roughing me up so much?" She broke free of his grip and wandered towards the back of the cache. "I think I've found another passageway back here. It's all covered up with a sheet held down with a load of dusty old grain sacks."

Redbloom pondered at the girl's revelation and released her upon her request. He plucked his beard and fondled the brim of his hat. "Yes well indeed I see a cavern... a hole one might surmise, but the mystery remains in where it should lead or where it would or might lead. I am a little confuddled with my thoughts...I think the shake of the fall may have muddled my mind a little." He scratched his head and looked at the girl.  
"Well in the interests of our mutual self-preservation I would suggest the passageway...though it may hold an equal quantity of death and perhaps some sort of lung disease!"

He pointed forth and scrumpled his face in quite unnecessary pain.

"Ladies first, would seem the commonly accepted phrase but I am inclined just to rush down in excitement...but having said that I fancy perhaps that the choice should be yours, considering my current state of mental being. Arg! Confound my mind!"

Kestrel shook her head at the indecisive Redbloom and led the way into the secret passage. Keeping her head low, she scrambled along, eventually descending a series of worn steps. The end of the tunnel opened out into another room.

She gaped.

A great hollow full of glittering coins, jewels and trinkets littered the floor. Not only did it harbour these, but an armoury too...pistols, swords, gunpowder. Enough for a miniature siege to take place.

"The rum runners must've been taken off guard when they were caught. They didn't even have time to get down here to defend themselves. All this time it must've remained hidden."

Meanwhile, above the sands, Pintel was struggling with one of the _Pearl_'s great mooring lines. It was a futile effort since one man alone, particularly of his stature could not right an immense ship. The Kraken had swept off, skirting the island's far side in search of its prey. Pintel did not know what had become of Ragetti. The past few moments had been a bit of a blur what with nearly being crushed by a teetering ship, which was so rightfully his...

Finders, keepers...

************************************************************

A shadowy figure with sallow skin shambled through the thick, musty, humid and altogether too green jungle, his eyes unblinking and emotionless. He had heard of someone coming here…someone he knew…someone he loathed.

Jade Starfall.

He gritted his teeth at the very thought of her, but he kept trudging through the lively forest, listening disinterestedly to the sounds of exotic birds. And then he saw her. She was running through the jungle, and luckily, she was shielding her face at the time from a stray branch, and she didn't see him. He dove into the underbrush and looked at her as she staggered viciously through the forest, when it occurred to him – she was hurt.

He smiled grimly.

Then he knew he had to act quickly. She was running away from him, and he only had a limited time to get what she was after and hand her over to the guard…

He quickly took out his favourite weapon – his "Bloody Knuckles." It was but a moment's work to strap them on to his wrists, and with a grin, he searched his vials. Nightshade – no, that might kill her, that would wait for another day…yellow star thistle? No, that would cause her to forget where the papers were…though he stowed the thought away in his mind to possibly mix the two. _What would it do?_ he thought curiously.

_Probably liquefy her brain and then cause her to bleed from the inside out,_ he fantasized with a dark chuckle.

Lupine? Don't think so. Locoweed? Probably not. Timber Milk Vetch? Nah… Poison Hemlock? No. Water Hemlock? NO. Finally he removed a small vial containing a cloudy yellow liquid with a wicked smile. Yes, this would do fine – Golden Viperroot. He had already memorized the effects of this little-known but nonetheless effective toxin. Temporary paralysis of all muscles and nerves from the neck down. Short-term shutdown of the optical nerves – or in other words, blindness for a short period of time. Memory-loss of the period twenty-four hours after intake. And the best of all…a bloody confounded headache when the user finally passes out, which is about thirty minutes after consumption. All side effects lasted about twelve hours, and the one of amnesia lasted twice that…good, good, good.

He ejected the claws with a hiss and hurriedly dipped the tips into the venom, taking care not to splatter or spill any of the yellow liquid. Then he put the put the cork back on the vial, and smiling, stashed it back in his pack. And then he made chase, watching her search the leaves in vain…

"Boo," he said softly from behind. She didn't even have time to swivel her neck around and face him. He swiftly brought his blade across the flat of her spine, causing some blood to spatter across the blade as she twitched convulsively and slowly relaxed.

***********************************************

Jade _hated_ this jungle. Drumming her fingers somewhat nervously upon the metal of her belt buckle, the youngster ground to a complete halt and stared up into the leafy canopy, eyes lidded slightly and a vague scowl on her pretty face as she tried to discern any sense of time from the sparse light above.

Having little success, Jade went back to scanning for the flowers at a twinge from her ribs. Even if the wound was healing, it still ached, and any form of painkiller was good for her health, surely? Bright eyes flicked over the screen of jungle, scrutinising the broad array of plant life with something not unlike boredom verging on temper. Growing tired with the multitude of different plants (none of which resembled what she was after, it must be noted) she rubbed her face tiredly and frowned at her formerly ring-adorned hand, then switched her attention back to the task at hand. Still there was nothin-

_"Boo," _

Jade jumped approximately a foot in the air as the cold, smug voice cut across her thoughts like a whiplash. Her immediate thought, striking like chain lightning, was that it was Jack playing games, but then again, that was far too quiet and high a voice for him. The second thought that tagged along was that it could be the friend he mentioned, and another idea that it was one of Davy's crew.

It was simple to ascertain that whomever it was, it was an enemy. Before she could make a conscious reaction to the intruder, a sudden burst of pain exploded in her lower back, like some wild animal had just smashed her with it's heavy claws, which sent her at first staggering forwards, one hand gripping at the bark of a thick-trunked tree for support. Biting her lip and closing both eyes as the pain washed over her body, a sudden sense of panic made her twitch erratically, nails digging into the heavy armour of the tree as she did so; the pain was intense-the claws had slashed not only through dress shirt and frock coat, but also the heavy layers of bandages to better protect her older injury. Each individual, smooth cut burned with an intense fire that shot painful sparks up through her body, eliciting a shudder and wince from the girl, unable to bring herself to even move.

And then the poison began to take it's hold with alarming alacrity. An unusual sensation of loss of the body's control began to effect Jade, enforced further when she tried to move and found herself unable to. Panicking, she opened both eyes wide in shock, and found herself greeted by inky blackness. Her legs gave way beneath her, and without the ability to stop herself, she collapsed onto the ground, partially curled up with her eyes rammed shut again. She gave an unnatural twitch and managed to move her face so it was obscured by her useless arm. Beneath its comfort, she opened both eyes again to darkness. Her body quivering, she emitted a low whimper as the darkness settled fully in.

Daemon smiled at Jade as she writhed and twisted on the ground, her glazed eyes staring sightlessly around her. Then, slowly, she started to stop moving, twitching occasionally. Daemon paced around her body, which was lying on the ground – conscious, but only barely, and completely immobile.

"Hello there, Jade," he said brightly, cheerily, walking around her and staring at the four long slashes across her back. "It's been a while since I've seen you, of course…you probably don't remember me." He suddenly kicked out, striking her in the side viciously and chuckling. "Not that it matters. We can get to know each other very well now…we have all the time we want." Which really wasn't true…but Jade didn't know that. And what Jade didn't know wouldn't hurt her.

Well, it would hurt her. But it wouldn't hurt Daemon.

He kicked out again, this time hitting the side of her head, hard but not powerfully enough to snap it. He needed her alive; someone with a broken neck was completely worthless. He bent down by her, ignoring her pain as he whispered in her ear.

"You have something I want," he said, so silently that he could barely hear himself, but he knew she could hear him – he was close enough that she would be able to hear his breath. "And it would spare you a lot of pain if you could give it to me. Would you like this pain to stop, Jade? Would you like it all to end?"

He _could_ kill her, he supposed, but it would lose his leverage…and he needed money for a small ship to get away. But he did have an antidote for the toxin that was coursing through her bloodstream at that very second. Not that he would really give it to her.

"Come on, Jade," he said, even more quietly, pressing her head gently into the ground, his thick, black hair brushing her own face. "Give it to me. Give it to me _now_, and I will release you from this pain…"

The alien voice cut into Jade's pain like a bolt of distant lightning. Freezing all (minimal) actions, she cringed at the voice that sounded so upbeat and startling in sharp contrast to the intense panic and pain of the time. Numb and terror-stricken, she was forced to remain still, still breathing raggedly as her tormentor spoke again. Her brain clawed wildly, desperately, to try and recognise the voice-to pinpoint accurately whoever it was and add a face or name to those vocals…but it was impossible…

All further thought processes were shut down as a heavy boot thudded solidly with her side. Flinching, still able to feel pain despite having no control over her body, Jade did all she could: growled weakly and twitched, eyes half-closed as she struggled to keep breathing normal.  
It was getting harder…it felt so restricted…

_Please…Oh come on, dad, brother, help me! Just give me control of my own bloody body! Where's Jack, where's Jones, where's dad?_

Gradually, everything in her immediate memory started to go fuzzy. Attempting to cling to the memories of where she dropped off her satchel, it slipped through her mind like sand through her slender fingers, and was lost to her, perhaps forever. A sense of utter dread settled like a millstone in her chest, causing another whimper to escape her prone form. She was interrupted again by another kick, more jarring and painful now as it targeted her head, and she snarled brokenly beneath her arm, wishing for all the world that she could just see again. A wisp of light, a broken image, some colour, anything but inky darkness in this torture was better than nothing.

_"You have something I want…and it would spare you a lot of pain if you could give it to me. Would you like this pain to stop, Jade? Would you like it all to end?"_

The voice was a whispered hiss, nearly silent, but it made Jade's blood turn to ice. Sensing his breath near her face, the girl cringed, opened her eyes and gave vent to an awful shudder before freezing entirely: she couldn't define the terms of 'end' in her brain: either he was offering alleviation to the symptoms, or it was a trap, an excuse to kill her. She made no reply. The once dizzyingly far ground couldn't feel closer as her face made contact with the earth. Ineffectively trying to oppose the cruel treatment, she twitched, silent, and coughed weakly, feeling hair brushing her face.

_"Give it to me. Give it to me now, and I will release you from this pain…"_

A sense of tremendous frustration made a small growl, one of threat, erupt from her throat. Snarling weakly, Jade hooded both eyes and averted them uselessly to the forest, her voice tired, broken and pained as she breathed through her nose, unable to guess for the world what he was talking about.

"Please…" She quivered slightly, winced and yawned….that was unusual. "Please, I…I don't have a clue….What the bloody hell d'you ...want…of me?" Praying that the demand was a simple one, Jade shuddered again, and closed her eyes…

Some day.

Daemon bent over his sister, who was shivering, cowering, her eyes watering in pain. This was good…but she didn't look like she would be giving in any time soon, despite this.

"Please…" she whispered to him, and she winced and…yawned. This made Daemon angry, as though he wasn't the least of her worries. He liked to be worrisome. People feared you when you were worrisome, when you scared them – and it made it easier to hurt them. "Please, I…I don't have a clue….What the bloody hell d'you ...want…of me?"

Daemon smiled, but he was getting angrier and angrier every second – she was resisting, despite the pain. Perhaps he needed to kick up the pain a notch…

"Surely you should know, Jade…I imagined you as a stupid girl, but nothing as ridiculous as this…" He elbowed her viciously in the side, then stood up, watching her for a minute. He made no noise, just watched her, his cold blue eyes staring, and he looked down at the ground where she had been searching. He knelt down and scattered the leaves, his eyes darting…where was it, he knew that this was what she was looking for…

"You know perfectly well what I want, Jade," he said out of the silence, picking up a single twig from the ground and examining it, his fists quivering with rage…but his voice; he managed to keep that under control. Then he walked back over to her standing over his undersized foe and glaring…the girl whimpered in his shadow…

"Do you like pain, Jade?" He said it simply, pacing around her as he extracted his Bloody-Knuckles again with a metallic hiss. He took out a rag from his pocket and wiped the blades, ignoring the limp form on the ground as he cleaned them quietly. He heard a mumble; he didn't know, nor did he truthfully care, whether it was an answer. "I would think that you didn't," he continued, gently dabbing at a stray drop of crimson lifeblood, staring at his own pallid reflection in the silver of his gleaming blades. His distorted likeness stared back, emotionless, almost weary and annoyed…he sighed, looking back at Jade.

"Pain is a curious thing," he said to her, standing motionless. He slowly bent down to Jade, looking at her white hair…he had black hair…her green eyes…he had blue…and yet they were somehow siblings. In a strange manner, Daemon couldn't imagine them any other way except for that…it just wouldn't fit. "It is so easy to inflict, yet so difficult to prevent…so easy to provoke, to ensure…" he lowered the Bloody-Knuckles so they were pricking the flesh of her right arm. "…and, on the other hand…" He slowly pressed down, drawing blood. "…so difficult to counteract…"  
He twisted the blade, causing blood to spurt onto the ground. He smirked at her pain, at her torment, basking in her agony, hating her every second, but loving how easy it was to harm her…

"_Surely you should know, Jade…I imagined you as a stupid girl, but nothing as ridiculous as this…" _

Somewhere in the torrent of conflicting emotions, Jade somehow managed to pull indignant anger into the fray: what on earth did he mean by that; was she supposed to have a clue of her unseen attackers desires, then? A small thought as to what he wanted entered her mind, in fact two did, one predominantly more fearful than the other, but the second vanished like smoke on the wind through her mind, leaving her with revenge as the only available idea.

_"You know perfectly well what I want, Jade."_

This time it was getting harder to concentrate on the voice. Hooding her eyes and feeling her hand twitch unnaturally once more in the awful cycle of spasming, she could do little else but make a strangled response after some time, not even hearing his question or response, yet when she spoke, it was unintelligible, and rather came out as a growl when the claws dug into her arm.

Jade didn't need eyes to know that the pale dress shirt she was wearing must be shredding to bloodied rags by now, but that didn't stop a grimace as she opened both eyes fully and still felt the sightlessness prevailing. Whimpering again, she visibly slowed her breathing in response, eyes glazed and pained, but staring sidelong to her tormentor with stoic indifference. It was some time, any time at all before she spoke a single word; her body was burning with the intense pain, and a dreadful, sick sensation of dizziness was starting to claim her, making any attempts to do anything futile.

A flinching expression of startled agony made her body go stiff for a fleeting moment, before she found the energy to make an informed response to the assailant. When the words came, they were quiet and mumbled, but coherent nonetheless.

"I can tell you now that no matter your tactics, I cannot guess what you want. I...I can't remember what you are talking about...if you have the sense to talk to me sense, then we can strike a deal." A sudden spasm brought the pain back to her voice-it was hurried now, as if she feared that unconsciousness was looming closer by the second, and gasped out the only conceivable idea left. "Tell me what you want...tell me and I will try to tell you. You confuse me...but if you do that, then tell me..." She winced, twitched again, and mumbled incoherently, half-to herself.  
"Why did I feel I've seen Jack Sparrow before?"

Daemon stared at Jade as she squirmed, and he stood up again, staring at her. She was rather resilient, and that was something he admired in anyone, even her – courage was something that could not be measured, only tested. Her attire was tattered and bloody, and he felt a pang of pity for the girl on the ground. Well, not for her – rather for how long she was taking to convince. This was actually annoying him, and it was _pitiful_ that she wasn't going to make his job easier.

_"I can tell you now that no matter your tactics, I cannot guess what you want…"_

So you say, thought Daemon as he paced around her, his own clothes splattered slightly with blood. HER blood.

_"I...I can't remember what you are talking about…"_

He stopped pacing and froze, his eyes widening a hair, and his chin raising a notch. So, he had underestimated the power of the toxin, and it was causing her to even forget what she had just been doing? Unlikely, but perhaps. He slowly turned his head to face her, and his eyes narrowed to slits yet again – anyone could be persuaded. And if they couldn't…he could always pay her a little visit in prison. Nothing to worry about…

_"...If you have the sense to talk to me sense, then we can strike a deal,"_ she finished, interrupting Daemon's thoughts. _"Tell me what you want...Tell me and I will try to tell you…You confuse me...But if you do that, then tell me..."_

Then she recoiled, and he caught a glimpse of her eyes – paler than usual, the whites expanding, glazed. He smiled bitterly at the pain he knew she was feeling. It was so sweet, to be able to hurt her without retaliation…yet he somewhat wished she could fight back. It would be useless, of course, but that was why he wanted her to try. To look at her face as it paled even further in horror as he told her who he was…but that would have to wait for another day. He had no need to tell her; he in fact had a sensible incentive not to. His plans had to be kept in the dark for success to finally be imminent – though he doubted if she told the prison guards who he'd said he was they'd believe her. Or whether _she_ would even believe him, for that matter. In fact, there was really no harm in telling her – she would forget she'd even met him once the poison wore off. She was already fading. She was already beginning to lose her consciousness. Give it another fifteen minutes, he thought, and you'll be in the darkness at last.

Then she muttered something very odd. He couldn't quite catch it, but it was something like…Sparrow? Jack Sparrow, he assumed; the pirate _had_ been seen around this island, around Tia Dalma's shack.

"You say you would like to bargain with me," he said to her, his voice suddenly silky and somewhat more human. Then he chuckled to himself, having made his decision, and he was sure it was the right one. "That can be arranged…but for now…" He picked her limp form up by the waist and flung her over his shoulder like a sack of vegetables, taking no care to be gentle. It wasn't very difficult; she was short and undeniably light, and not at all a heavy load. He was thankful that she wasn't able to struggle either – that would be a nuisance. Then he walked, using the shadows from the trees as guides to the direction he was heading, and he walked through the ferns and delicate shrubbery, taking care to "accidentally" hit her head against the side of a tree trunk as he walked by.

Sure enough, his directional skills were proved right, and he saw the hulking form of a ship – the _Intrepid_, a larger ship in the Navy, though nowhere near the size of the _Dauntless_. Three red clad figures were hustling up to him, and he let them take hold of Jade, ignoring her soft, shaky murmurs. He held out his hand, and his lips twitched as a large leather pouch was promptly dropped into his palm. He swiftly undid the cord holding the money in and took out a small silver piece.

"All accounted for, I presume?"

"Ten thousand shillings," replied one of the British soldiers, holding his bayonet at the ready. He frowned. "Doesn't look like too much of a pirate, though, does she…?"

"I assure you, she is," Daemon said, putting the pouch into one of his many pockets and raising his head to regard the Englishmen. "I saw her engaged in activity with a known pirate – Jack Sparrow."

The man facing him blinked and looked away from Daemon, in part because of surprise at what was now a well-known corsair to the British, and also partially due to the fact that Daemon's cold, hard blue were too difficult to keep contact with. "Ah…"

"Well, I must be going," said Daemon with a satisfied smirk. "Business to run, time to waste…"

"Yes, but…" the soldier looked up, but the shadowy figure was gone. It was of no concern to him…he suppressed a shiver and worked with his comrades to take Jade back to the _Intrepid_.


	30. Daemon's Plan

**Chapter XXX: Daemon's Plan **

Daemon was gleeful with the success of the first bit of his plan. It had worked almost completely correctly, excepting that he hadn't gotten any information out of Jade, and that could be remedied in good time. For now, he had completed Phase 1, and that was a cause to celebrate – but maybe some other time. Right now he had other things to do, things that couldn't wait…he took a deep breath as he neared Tia Dalma's shack. He brushed himself off, thinking about his plan…he only had one shot at this…

Then he charged at the door, flinging it open and bursting into the room, putting on the best of his acting skills, coughing and sounding out of breath. He looked up weakly at Jack and Tia, forcing his limbs to quiver.

"J-J-Jade…" he said, making his voice slightly lower than his usual colder voice. "She – the guards – they – from the big ship – they took Jade."

Jack Sparrow finally re-emerged from under Tia's desk. No, no, it wasn't like that, honest! He'd tried once more to reawaken Ms Dalma but found himself lost in the same trance she had fallen into. Consequently, he had thumped his head on the desk and toppled off. Jumping up with a start at the commotion in the doorway, he raised an eyebrow at the stranger.

"Jade?" he tried to focus his swimming memory. "The odd-looking strumpet in 'ere earlier?" He blinked a few times. "And who might you be, mate?"

So _this_ was the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow? In truth, Daemon had to admit to being disappointed: he had expected someone a bit...cleaner. His sister was an obvious _master_ at making friends; she had chosen a drunken lunatic- a strange mixture of the romantic term for 'pirate' and a complete idiot if hitting one's head against the desk was an indication of intelligence. He would have to tread careful ground here; misinformation could be the end of all his work, ad he would have to start all over again. No, that couldn't happen! He had waited far too long for this; so much so that he was desperate, and that only leant itself to his performance. Sparrows were curious birds; they blended in well with others, but everyone knew them. They possessed a wit and a certain pluckiness, but were also incredibly flighty; hopefully this Sparrow wasn't...

But if he was?

Well, Daemon grinned; he would just have to break his wings then, wouldn't he? Panting and shaking still as he bluffed and conned his way through the story, Daemon rest his full weight against one chair and coughed wheezily, nodding somewhat weakly as he shivered and glanced outdoors, rubbing one arm distractedly as he twitched, eager to get away.

"'M sorry...My name's Daemon...Greythorn. Yes, Jade, I thought I saw here 're earlier, bu'...s-she's a....I...I kno-know her. I saw her, s-saw her get captured. Official lookin' m-men an' a big ship, something about piracy and b-brandings...Please help; she's done nothin' w-wrong..."  
His pale, sad eyes glanced up to Jack and stared at the pirate hopefully, apparently praying to the fates that he would assist.

_If he comes with me....this will be easier than I thought..._

For a moment, Jack was a little taken aback by the man's grief and looked rather heartfelt. The worry of losing the deal he had made with the girl was also beginning to press. Even worse, the mention of officials...with branding irons...made him twitch. His right arm gave a nostalgic twinge of pain.

He sniffed and straightened his hat before responding. "Mr...um..." He coughed as he jogged his dazed brain. "Mr Greythorn. Doubtless that this is a terrible blow upon your part, but it seems to me that your...friend...Ms Jade is meddling in risky business. As I said to 'er, she wouldn't be here 'less it was a matter of destiny. Same would surely apply to you. If she got captured, 'tis bad luck but she fell behind."  
He looked the man over with a hint of pity rising inside. Besides, if you was lookin' out for 'er, shouldn't you 'ave been with 'er or summink to make sure she wouldn't go blundering off into trouble?"

The more Daemon watched Jack's expressions, the less and less he began to find himself really listening to the words. Jack looked slightly anxious, then a hint of something close to a memory crossed his face, accompanied by a twitch. Interesting....

_"Mr Greythorn. Doubtless that this is a terrible blow upon your part, but it seems to me that your...friend...Ms Jade is meddling in risky business. As I said to 'er, she wouldn't be here 'less it was a matter of destiny. Same would surely apply to you. If'n she got captured, 'tis bad luck but she fell behind._

At this, Daemon sniffed sadly and bit his lip, flicking his unusual eyes away and to the floor for a fleeting instant before looking to Jack again. He could sense that there was some mental deliberation at work here. Good, then that meant he was halfway home.

_"Besides, if you was lookin' out for 'er, shouldn't you 'ave been with 'er or summink to make sure she wouldn't go blundering off into trouble?"_

_Oh.....Bugger, he's smart._

For an instant, Daemon looked upset and confused, clenching his fists and glancing back to the door with a sigh. He closed both eyes, in apparent frustration and began to frown as if remembering something. The bag on his back had never felt heavier-he still only had one shot at this, and if Jack caught sight of his bloody knuckles before Jade was found, he lost all opportunity to embarrass, humiliate, harm and irritate his _beloved_ sister.

_No problem. It's evident he's not a typical heartless wretch. Just play the part correctly, add in a few terms and the game is as good as set._

Daemon finally opened his eyes and gave a nostalgic little smile, which seemed all he would do for a moment before answering. "You've seen her and her attitude. She doesn't want to be watched over, like anyone wouldn't. I've let her make her choices as any friend would, but I'm not a fighter, and there was little I could do anyway." At this point he held up one bloodstained hand (retaining the fact that that was his sister's blood) and quietly glanced to the floor. His expression bespoke guilt and loss until he raised his head a fraction and added a pleading tone to his voice. "What would it take for you to help me, sir? I'm desperate...I can't go and find her alone, but I can guess where they are going..."

Again, he gave his best pleading look and hoped for the best. If Sparrow tried to get around _this_ act, he might be half minded to just pretend to break down, despite the humiliation.

Jack tided this over for a moment. "I might be persuaded to 'elp on a few conditions. I 'appen to 'ave a smidgeon of a deal with our dear friend Jade. If she's in bad hands, said deal might not work out so well, savvy? So, be a gent and do tell... these...officer types, are they still ashore? Much as I'd love to go traipsing off after this damsel, my little friend back there..." He gestured to the store room where the old Aztec was presumably nodding off. "E's got a touch of the...you know...wot landlubbers get. Seasickness, that's the one. Aye. Can't really set sail an' leave 'im. Oh, and he's loath to leave 'is boat, which by and large is currently rather unfloatable..."

Of course, the old man was clearly not feeling a sickness of the ocean. But the thought of going back out on those waves and what lay in wait for him sent Jack's own stomach looping.

This was getting tiresome. Daemon continually shifted from foot to foot as he listened, some inner voice losing it's temper as the unusual pirate before him rose and then dropped his confidence in a record amount of time. The young man pursed his lips in a hopeful smile and opened his mouth to speak-it was working...!

But no, Sparrow was going on again...

If Daemon wasn't so well restrained, he would have liked to punch Jack until he was an unconscious heap-he was fast, and clearly not eager to go out to sea either way. The Captain didn't strike Daemon as the type to wait for people in a hurry when there was trouble, but then again, he wasn't trying to save himself, he was just being awkward. Perhaps a boost to the persuasion would be required. Rubbing his nose and eyes roughly with the back of his hand and coughing gruffly with the last of his breath, Daemon again lowered his voice, but instead of upset, made it sound even more desperate, as if he was thinking of excuses upon the very spot.

"M' friend Jade has a dad, who just so 'appens to be a Lord. I'm sure if you could help, I'd be able to see to it _you_ get whatever help or items you might want. Other than that, they've already made ready to leave-I s'pose...I s'pose we could follow after a bit, but that dep'nds on your friend...." Again he sniffed, and again he coughed.

Darn, he was running out of ideas....

"One moment," said Jack. He turned his back on his new acquaintance, half his wits making sure they were on the defensive, the other half operating the movement of his hand to the compass at his belt. Sparrow consulted the spinning of the little needle, his moustache twitching in thought.

_The young missy's daddy is a 'lord', eh? Anyone I know, I wonder? No use in stayin' round 'ere what with Tia in some trance thingy and Jones's cronies wandering round willy-nilly anyways. May'aps I can get to a port before Jones catches up...after all...it's much easier to escape a gallows...and...who knows, there might be rum in it somewhere..._

Having come to some sort of an answer, he snapped it shut and faced the man again.

"All right, Mister or Master Greythorn...I accept your proposal on the condition that you in fact have a vessel upon which to travel...and also that you 'elp me carry Oxo. I'll drag 'is boat ashore so's it don't sink and I'll come with. What do you say to that?" He grinned childishly.

Ooh, he was already there. Jack had taken a few seconds to glance about and look at something, notably a compass or other (Daemon made a mental note to discern later exactly _why_) before reaching a conclusion which was, in every aspect, perfect. The corners of his lips twitched ever so slightly, the only betrayal to his apparently relieved demeanour, but was dissolved in an instant by a huge, domineering smile as he grabbed Jack's hand and shook it, before clenching his fists and glancing about-seeming every bit as eager to get going as a genuinely concerned friend would.

"Right, okay...Well, Jade's boat's still moored down there if...I'm right..."

A quick glance out of the door, the fluttering of pale sails, and Daemon turned back with a cheerful grin.

"It's a good-lookin' little thing, and I'm guessing that if you want it as part of your payment, or for your...friend; then she'd probably accept, seeing as it's probably going to be no use to her once she finds her ol' vessel. Anyways..." Daemon gave the curtains behind Jack a pointed look, coughed politely and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Shall we sort out your friend's boat, then...?" Of course, when he would find it to be an old Aztec canoe that was moored there, his admiration in himself for discovering the eccentric would only improve...

Jack's demeanour brightened.

_A ship someone's offered me to keep! That makes a change. I could use it to find me Pearl..._

"Aye, the sooner the better!" he exclaimed and walked out of the shack, pausing once to bow to the inanimate Tia. He made his way down the ladder to the creek and set about tugging the great canoe ashore.

A slight improvement in attitude on Jack's part did not go unmissed by Daemon -clearly whomever this captain was, he was changeable. A sudden flash of uncertainty flickered in his mind; he didn't trust this man at all. Then again, did he ever trust anyone other than himself? Not really- plots were always circulating, and ulterior motives went unseen by even the sharpest eyes. He smiled in a relieved manner as Jack brushed past, and immediately frowned after Sparrow's turned back as he exited the shack. No, this was a dangerous game to be playing, time for a strategic change.

He would have to wait a bit longer, but after he had caused some stir with his sister, a disappearance might make her even more nervous, and playing with her mind was satisfactory for now. It was irritating, but taking a silly risk would be stupidity when he didn't know that deal Jade had formulated with Jack. Either he would have to wait until the pirate wasn't present, or find away to inter grate his own future into his plans.  
Two birds with one stone...he liked that.

One last turn to glance about inside the musty cabin before he ducked out, and Daemon's eyes alighted on his sister's ring, which elicited a slight raise of the eyebrows. Whatever it was doing here was...odd. He then glanced at some objects closer on the table, and noticed an odd little locket. A face in crab claws, quite large, possibly with a mechanism inside and all wrought of metal or silver. Probably worth some coins. Surreptitiously, he reached for it, but balked when he got close enough to grab it - something inside made him feel physically and mentally ill or barred away from taking it. His hand closed upon this air and he turned to leave, brushing black hair from his eyes and all too eager to be out of the accursed place. Although he wouldn't admit it, something unnerved him about the whole shack, and he was far happier when outside on the short walkway.

Jack was attempting to drag the massive canoe ashore, and with a frown, Daemon began to assume his kind personality and made a short hop into the dark waters of the creek, noticing with a grimace that it easily reached his waist at the shallowest reach before the shore. He lent his strength to pushing the canoe, glancing over to the skiff that bobbed in the waters- he could glimpse a few corked bottles from the inside and made the observation that it was most likely rum. Glancing back to his work, Daemon pushed again.

_This bloke better not get legless easily, else I'm tipping him overboard._

Jack wasn't sure what to make of Greythorn. Naturally Jack was wary of trusting anyone since Barbossa's mutiny. Also naturally, he enjoyed trusting strangers because...well, it was half the fun of living! After covering Oxo's canoe in enough swampy foliage in a place that was less likely to erode and plunge it back into the waters, he said a quick "ta" and made off again to the shack. When he reached the top of the ladder, he called back down.

"You wait down there and grab his legs as I pass 'im down, savvy?"

Daemon, apparently in his state of anxiousness, did not even offer Sparrow the courtesy of a full-blown reply, but simply uttered a murmur of assent. His eyes fixed themselves quietly upon the lapping waters he stood in a for a few moments as his brain began the awful task of catching events up. Now the rules were changed in the game, allowances had to be made; for example, how he was going to disappear later, what he was going to say to Jade before he left...

And, of course, how he was finally going to kill Jack. Yes, it had taken a few seconds, but it was definitely decided that the pirate wasn't worth the effort of keeping alive. It would be harder to get someone as suspicious as him to leave long enough for him to fully enjoy killing off his sister, so he may as well have fun sending a few men after him.

But later. Right now he needed to work hard, get to the cells, scare his sister and go-he needed time, far more time than he would have, to fully cover every option and make sure the double murder could be arranged. It was only then that the extent of Jack's words finally sank in, and his brain had to take command of the more physical aspects of life, wading hurriedly through the murky waters and to the base of the ladder, where he made the noise of agreement and waited.

Jack paused in retrieving the old man to eye up the items on Tia's desk. Varied trinkets, including the very same crab-like locket that Daemon had noticed. He frowned as though there was something ... a tale that needed to tell a secret. Keeping a close watch on his voodoo friend, he carefully plucked it from the tabletop. However, he didn't pocket it. He couldn't stop himself reaching with deft fingers to prise the little thing apart...

A music box played...only a few notes. Something familiar. No sooner had five notes struck, Tia Dalma's eyes flew open and she hissed, "Leave it alone, Jack." Shocked out of his wits, Jack snapped it closed and put it back on the desk. He stood and watched Tia Dalma. Her eyes remained fixed on him, but there was something much eerier going on. He waved a hand in front of her. Her eyes did not follow. She was as entranced as she had been moments ago.

Jack swallowed and gently pushed the locket closer to Tia. Her eyes closed again. Shrugging off the jitters he had acquired, Jack hurried to drag the dozing Aztec over to the doorway and passed him down to the waiting Mr Greythorn. Having done this, he dipped his hat in respect to Tia, closed the door of the shack and clambered back down the ladder.

It took a few moments for Daemon to accomplish his task, but he did so wordlessly and without complaint, before hopping into the skiff himself and taking a seat at the helm, which gave Jack the honour of untying the mooring ropes when he got in. Noting, with a lift of his eyebrows, that Jack had exited the shack without his trademark odd grin, Daemon made another mental note as he glanced to Oxo.

Would he need to get rid of _this_ man too? Lord, if he didn't have a lot of planning about to happen. Taking a hold of the tiller, Daemon tugged out one of the bottles of rum, settled back and gave Jack a nod.

"I think that was Royal Navy ship. Closest place would be Port Royal."

And without a further word, Daemon began to turn the tiller, taking a mouthful of drink as he did so.

A lot of work to get done....


	31. Seaworthy Interlude

**Chapter XXXI: Seaworthy Interlude**

Jack the monkey trotted out of the undergrowth with a bundle of sticks in his paws. It wasn't going to patch up much, if any, of the damaged _Pearl_...but someone had to start working on it.

**************************************************************

"Trinkets!" Was the first sound to pop from Albannon's mouth. He really liked trinkets and bits 'n' bobs. He spent a long time running his fingers through the riches, chuckling away to himself. After a little time he remembered he was not alone, and should remember the lady at his side. He picked up a brace of pistols and tucked his cane in his belt. "Ha ha! Young lady! Let us strike down this sea monster, then get ourselves unmarooned!...and find that monkey!"

He leapt up, cramming his pockets with manifold goodies, picked up a sword and filled a curious bottle with some gunpowder. He looked up and poked the trapdoor above them open.

"Let's get ourselves outta here, find a boat - Ha ha! Ha! - and fill it with our ensemble of aggressive and passive trinkets."

Kestrel gawped at her clearly suicidal companion. "You're a strange one at that, Mr Red - er...mister." She selected a heavy bejewelled pistol and a much lighter rapier from the pile of goods, not to mention a pocketful of gems. She noticed there was also a stack of rope handily lying about. "If we can scare that thing away somehow, maybe we could...I dunno...I'm not much on the practical side, but figure out a levering system with some of this rope and get that ship back upright? Do you know anything about fixing holes in boats?" She hoped he did, unless they could find the two hapless pirates they'd been stranded with.

Albannon looked at the girl and with a comforting smirk said: "I wouldn't worry about that." He slapped her heartily on the back. "Even if we have to strap a tree to a bed sheet, we are getting out of here, oh crackling wood we will!" He picked up a rifle, walked the length of the tunnel to the beach and hopped out the trap. Pondering a while he looked at the calm sea around. "I can't see a monster, nor a pirate foe. Come up I implore you young lady. I can see the ship and a scarrywag at its base." He lifted the rifle and pointed at the poor pirate form. He fired, missing the pirate by a good yard or two. "Next time, Kestrelly, Next time..."

He slowly began to reload his gun...

Terrified at the fact a shot had just been fired in his general direction, Pintel yelped and turned to see the distant figure of Redbloom poking out of a hole in the ground.

"Oi! Wot you doin' that for? I was just 'elpin fix the ship, like!" He gulped as he saw the eccentric man start to reload. He wiped the sweat off his bald pate and whimpered loudly enough for Redbloom to hear. "Oh please don't shoot me, sir! Besides, 'ow else are you goin' ter get this thing sailin' again. She's got an 'ole in 'er. 'Twill need more'n you and a poppet to get it upright, so it will!"

Lost for words at the sight of Redbloom's sudden violent turn, Kestrel tried to climb up to see out of the trapdoor.

"What the -? Who is that? Is that those two pirates? What are you shooting at them for? Redbl-"

A sound behind her caused her to whirl about. Ankle-deep in the treasure trove was a hideous monster with a face covered in lionfish spines. Jones's crewmember had found them.

"_Aie! Tu le vois?!_" she shrieked hysterically.

Albannon heard the shriek behind and the hails from in front. In a moment of weary panic, he swung round to defend Kestrel, discharging his pistol down into the hidden trove. In panic, he stood back wielding his cane, and leapt into the treasury void.

"Vile creature! You touch the lady and you perish, touch me and you die!"

He saw not what approached before him but lunged out with all his might, determined to survive and protect.

"What the hell is that?!" Kestrel picked up something large but relatively useless - a statuette of some cat deity, no less - and brandished it at the creature.

The crewman smirked. Well, a slit opened in the side of its face that she presumed was a mouth and it _seemed _to smirk. "Davy Jones wants ter know why you's got der Black Spot. Once dat's settled den 'e'll come fer yer. Har har!"

Bringing back the ornament, ready to smash with it, she responded, "Who's Davy Jones? The bottom of the sea? I don't know why I have this mark, I didn't do anything!"

Pintel took this moment of distraction to dodge to the cover of the _Black Pearl_. He waded around as fast as his stumpy legs would move to the hole in its side and crept inside the great vessel. Once he'd gotten sufficiently far inside, discovering himself to be in the brig, he heard a sound from behind one of the nearby cells. Drawing his cutlass, he tip-toed through the passage. At last he saw the culprit. Ragetti, in all the confusion of the great sea monster and subsequent shooting had shut himself behind bars.

"Ragetti? Wot you doin' there?" Pintel asked, bewildered.

*******************************************

Albannon swiftly skewered the fishy man on a rusty gold sword, and grimaced as the creature flopped to the ground. He had never killed a man before, let alone a sea monster. He put a hand on Kestrel's shoulder, and shuddered before realising he had wiped his fishied hands all over her.

"Ah Sorry! Hmmm Oh Ah! I am all a fluster... let us scramble out, break ourselves free. Ha ha! Oh..." His face filled with gloom, and he plucked a cigar from it solemnly and planted between his lips. He lit it, deep in pondering and offered Kestrel a leg up. "Ladies first, apparently... I think...no no...forget it."

Kestrel barely noticed the substance Redbloom had just wiped on her shoulder. She was too busy staring, horrified, at what he thought he'd killed. A trail of fish led from the creature's wound, to her rescuer's dripping sword. She watched the creature sit up, the gaping green hole in its chest sealing.

"I'll let me master know yore answer then. He _will_ be pleased..." it sniggered.

The monster ran off down the passage.

Kestrel scrambled up to the surface.

**************************************************

Johnny Grog, woken by an amount of noise somewhere below him rolled off of his makeshift bed; a huge pile of bottles, filled with rum, some formerly filled with rum, partially covered in foliage, seaweed and sand. He coughed up what might have been the last of the dried meat that he'd been chewing on when he fell asleep. He watched as two figures pulled themselves out of the ground nearby, accompanied by an odour of fish and cigar smoke.

A man and a woman, and if they were here then certainly there was also a ship nearby.

"Ahoy...errr...senior...no? Come'on me'hearties! Help a fellow nautician!" Despite their own odour, it was quite obvious that Grog had not moved in quite a while. "Take me to the nearest port if ya would, I can pay for me keep....I got this 'ere rum ya see. That could use a-transportin'." Ideas and possibilities ran through his head. No more coconuts, leeches, meat that wasn't rat, and when he got back to land...women! "I be a nautician too, I bet you ain't got one o' them on board, eh? Mateys!"

As Albannon reached the very top of the hole, he grumbled. "Hmmm! What kind of man hails me from the mud? Nautician you say! Well that sounds like hackrash if I ever heard it. Ha! Pluck your nose into sight and I may see if you are worth a jot...although you are most likely not!"  
He leaned close to Kestrel nearly burning her with his emberous cigar. "I am not sure Kes, my lady not sure at all, But I will bet whoever he is, we can slap him round the chops, give him an order or two... and he'll flab out the sparse crew just fine...hmmm?"

Kestrel gawped at the stranger who had just appeared, dodging the sizzling tip of Redbloom's cigar as she did so.

_Ugh, smoke. Disgusting habit._

"What the-? Have you been here all this time?" she asked the bedraggled person. "You poor man!" She made as if to step towards him, but thought better of it. "Where are you from...? Are you another pirate?" she called to Grog.

"Pirate?" squawked Grog, "Well? I never...yes, I might be. I prefer nautician, see, me and the seas, we got an understandin'. I knows things." Grog could see his audience starting to lose interest in his plight. "I been here three months madam, and, sir, three months of rum and rats and coconuts. Truth be told only thing I don't like 'bout the whole sad affair is after three months the only thing I'm sick of is coconuts. Why, I ain't washed see, they don' like the smell." Grog grinned a big, surprisingly toothy grin. He moved to take Kestrel's hand, scars moving and rippling visibly under his striped, canvas vest. "Who would you be, madam? My saviour p'raps?"

Albannon cracked his face at the miserable fellow being dragged from the depths. "If anyone is a saviour, it is me sir! If you would like to be a crewman, that would be most helpful, and I would be grateful if you would address me as captain." He poked his cane at the young groggy man and sneered. "Hmmm? Things keep on getting stranger... well we had better get back to this ship, mend it and get out of here. I have been trying to meet an Aztec friend of mine for some time... and even first that blasted Jacky Marrow whose ship I accidentally stole. Ha! Up, up, fellows to the ship to the seas...and the secrets beyond."

Rather reluctant at having to pull up the pungent stranger, Kestrel kept her distance as soon as Grog was stable. "Um, my name's Kestrel. Nice to meet you, I guess, but our ship's a bit...well, toppled." After hearing what Redbloom had to say, she stomped along after him. "An Aztec??? That's where you're taking us?" she panicked. "Just one or a whole tribe? I don't think they'd take kindly to us if the latter..."

***************************************************************

Jack, the sleeping Aztec, and Mr Greythorn had been afloat for some time. Sparrow kept mainly to the middle of the deck, glancing nervously from port to starboard, nibbling one of his grubby fingernails. He looked up at the billowing sheets atop the masts.

"I'm sure there could be more wind enticed to these sails," he whined.

Daemon blinked. It was a little known fact that the poor man, enclosed in a small vessel with a drunken whinger and a sleeping Aztec, had given into fits of napping, zoning out into a state of semi consciousness as he leant against the tiller, eyes half closed as he thought and attempted 'not to hear' anyone.

He had spent most of the trip thinking, _again_, about just what he was going to do with the other two passengers over time, and how best he could get rid of them. At first, the more immediate ideas had sprung to mind (and seeing as Daemon was getting increasingly infuriated with Jack too, but just kept up his act of friendliness) and he had contemplated killing them both now, he was so bored with the long voyage. Poisoning was quite often rather fun, but there would be time for the unfortunates to realise and react in a more violent manner once they knew...once they had nothing to lose, his life could become forfeit.

So, he could drown them; the sense of gratification from the final panic always brought a certain rush, but again, if it wasn't done perfectly, he could be in danger. And thus Daemon realised that it would defeat the whole object of the trip, and going to see Jack again. He would need to be kept alive a little while, possibly long enough just so he and Jade had a good friendship, and then he could die, and Jade could get the sense that the next friend she made would be the same. A vicious cycle for her – no-one to talk to to get help, because they get injured or killed, and she could get so scared it would be wonderful.

So he would need to bide his time. He could do that. He already had....he grinned slightly.

_"I'm sure there could be more wind enticed to these sails." _

"Mmm?"

Daemon, broken from his thoughts, glanced up sharply and blinked against the strong sunlight and sniffed vaguely. Giving the sails a small glance, then the horizon, he offered a friendly shrug and grinned. Winning over people and smoothing complaints was his speciality - he was a born diplomat.

"If you say so, Cap'n, can't see why not. I'm not so good with sailing as navigation as you are, so if you'd like to fix it up however it best suits you, go right ahead an' I'll adjust course." Gripping the tiller as the small boat began to rock unusually with the growing swell, Daemon again gave a perfectly open smile.

Jack raised an eyebrow. "All right," he replied. _Could've fooled me_, he thought. _Seems to be doing more than fine despite what he says. _Not wanting to look the anxious fool he certainly felt, he set about giving the mast-ropes a good tug. For good measure he slightly reined a sail in and let it down again just so it appeared he was doing something useful. He glanced backwards to check whether Greythorn had seen as much as he wanted to see, but it was doubtful...his acquaintance had a dozy look about him. He put on another of his winsome smiles before turning his attention back to the sails.

Jack froze. A grinning face full of barnacles was protruding out of the mast.

Jack screamed and attempted to smack the end of the rope into the cursed sailor's nose but his foe was too quick. A swordfish-like arm caught the rope like a spindle. The monster's other hand grabbed the pirate's shoulder. Before Sparrow knew what was happening, he was spun around in circles, the mast-rope binding him like a spider's web. The monster cackled fishily into his face and snatched at Jack's bound hands.

"One ticket to the Locker, courtesy of Davy Jones!"

Jack only had a moment to savour the unpleasant crawling sensation of the Black Spot upon the flesh of his palm, before the creature clonked his head against the mast and everything went dark.

A second passed....

Daemon blinked.

Two seconds...

Three....

Nineteen...

Already the young man had a paler shade of skin than most and a valuable knowledge of the world in his time. As it stood, Daemon's hair had never looked darker in comparison as he sat frozen to the seat, pale eyes an even more unnatural shade; he just didn't believe it. Jack collapsed to the deck, the creature…Thing laughed, and all he could manage was a surprised little, undignified squeak. He was far too bewildered and filled with revulsion for the first short while to do a whole lot, and simply flinched.

But the instant he glanced down at Jack and raised an eyebrow, his brain began ticking. He could just throw the pirate overboard…he definitely deserved it, the chattering, complaining drunkard...but no, he needed to use that odd idiocy to get his sister out and once they were friends, _then_ he could dispatch the lunatic. He stood up swaying with the motion of the boat and turned his deadpan stare upon the horrific crewman - he coughed and swallowed down the squeak with an attempted growl, flicking his boot tip against the bloody knuckles in his bag. He was, to be short, frank.

"Ahem...Go away."

Not listening to see if the crewman would obey (but supposing he would now whatever had just gone on was over,) Daemon stooped to dip an old, barnacled pail into the azure waters, then promptly and without due care tipped the contents over Jack's sprawled figure. This he repeated twice before dropping the bucket and reassuming his sitting position with an almost innocent expression, but beneath the surface, he was spooked.

Scared.

What the Hell was that thing?

After the third bucket of water drenched him, Jack came round, blurting, "All hands on deck, Mr Gibbs!" He paused to spit out one of his dreads that had got caught in his teeth. Then he noticed Greythorn standing there with the pail.

"What was that for?"

Jack tried to get up, but he was still wrapped up in the mast-rope.

"Oh."

Daemon only smirked half-heartedly as he stared out at the horizon, pale eyes narrowed against the wind's bite, too distracted to bother with making a witty comment on the Pirate's perceptiveness and memory. The water had at least slackened the ropes that bound the idiot - if he had a brain, he would get himself out. Glancing back and leaning heavily on the tiller, the young man blinked and forced the quaver in his voice to steady, glancing back to where the crewman had disappeared and left nothing but ripples on the azure surface of the waters.

"Um....Can you explain to me...?"

After having extricated himself, Jack frowned at Greythorn whilst the memory of what had happened to him leaked, trickled, sputtered, and then poured back into his mind. Jack let out a sharp yell of fright. He glanced at his right hand in horror, and quickly hid it behind his back. "Get this ship to land, or port, whichever's the closest. No questions, just movement. Hesitation will see us in more trouble than your incarcerated strumpet!"

Daemon blinked wordlessly as Jack panicked, as if snapped out of a trance, glanced to his hand and began yelling out orders in a fright. Again, the young man found himself incredibly frustrated with the peculiar pirate, raised his eyebrows and re-angled the tiller, sending the skiff at a different angle cutting Northeast as opposed to Northwest, the breeze catching his dark hair as the wind gusted the wrong way, the filled the sails and added even more speed. Dipping his head to avoid the sea-spray, Daemon pasted on a grin.

"Port Royal's closest, unless you want to drown on some coral pillars. We'll be there soon enough, sir."

_And if she's killed by the time we get there...it's his fault._


	32. An Undesired Audience

**Chapter XXXII: An Undesired Audience**

It was a beautiful day in Port Royal; with no clouds in sight, the sun was shining unhindered down on the watery port that occupied the coastal side of Fort Charles. The sea water glistened in the light, their depths being illuminated in such a way that, should one glance down into them, they would very plainly see the aquatic life that occupied that territory. A sense of tranquillity and serenity in the seas that constantly attacked the meagre shoreline as it encroached upon the sand added to the general buzz of harbour life at the Port. All in all, it was a fairly regular day, until a particularly large ship, the _Intrepid_ to be exact, finally made the alteration of course and set dead for the sprawling harbour, looking for all the world like some behemoth of ill fate.

Somewhere deeper within the ship's interior, inside the musty and cramped brig that it held; inside one of the steel-grated cells (the only one to be occupied,) sat a single, lone young lady. Knees tucked up to her chest and chin on said knees she pouted and stared at the blank space of floor in front of her bored eyes, slowly nodding off into fitful bursts of sleep in the uneventful stillness and surreality of this alien world.

Jade had already expressed her confusion, fear and anger in the previous day she had been awake on the short, sharp voyage back to the Port; thankfully the time had allowed some of her injuries to heal up considerably. Her blackened eye, for example, was all but gone, and the cut across her ribs was little more than a painful welt; but she still carried three painful gashes across her lower back. She reached around and touched them gently, breathing in at firs sharply, then exhaling through her nostrils in a controlled manner. Her mind was still muggy to the events of that day, but a deep underlying suspicion had always been there: she didn't know what had happened apart from shooting, talking to a peculiar man, and then...pain, voices...just one voice, cold and hateful, feeding off of the emotions that ran through her. It kept going, persistent, until she gave up arguing and submitted to the darkness rather than suffer any more indignity.

Next thing she knew, she was aboard a ship and in serious trouble, with no one to talk to, no idea of her destination, and a rather small living space she felt confined in. She had panicked, yelled, ranted and lost a great deal of her energy in pursuing the hopeless task of escape, but now she sat, hunched up and cold, drained of all her energy and wishing she had a spare shirt to change into. The one she wore was practically doll-rags with the beatings in had taken, and the frock coat was the only useful barrier to keeping her clothing together, but now even that was ripped in the back.

She was tired, so tired...but if she closed her eyes, the voices would come back. She was cold, lonely, confused-

_"All hands on deck! Tie the moorings securely and set the gangplank!"_

And apparently out of time. Brown hair fell back from her face as Jade finally stirred and showed some signs of life, raising rather unsteadily to her numb feet (a challenge in itself) and tottering rather uneasily over to the bars, whereupon she stared through wordlessly and waited. It was a matter of minutes before a broad-set man with a ring of iron keys and a smart Naval uniform trotted down the companionway and shambled over to the bars, wherupon he began rifling through the selection of keys as he whittled down the list.

"Err, where...are we?"

No response but for the shuffling of keys. Jade picked up her satchel, slung it over one shoulder, and tried again.

"Please. I should like to know what I'm being taken out for."

Again, no response. This time she began to move across the cell, closing the gap between the considerably.

"Please, tell me. I have done nothing wrong."

This seemed to elicit a snicker from the guard. After another initial pause, he glanced up with smug dark eyes and fit key to lock.

"Ah no, don't be affectin' innocence with me, lass. You know full well's why you're 'ere-"

"But I don't!"

" -an' what the consequences of it are. You've been sent for, for an audience with a Lord, heaven knows why, concerning your *ahem* vocation."

"Vocation? That's frightfully eloquent for a guard..."

"Oh, I read...Pirate."

"_What?!_"

Any pleasant small-talk was thrown out of the window like a piece of discarded tissue once the brig door swung inwards. Immediately as Jade was grabbed, instinct began to control her nervous system and she swore, fighting and yelling as she was dragged forcibly up the stairs in a flurry of noise and colour as more men were drafted in to keep her under control. The transition from dockside to office was more difficult that had been expected; Jade apparently had a knack for evasion once caught, and an incredibly sharp set of nails. Squirming and writhing like a wild animal time and again, Jade fought and pleaded her case as she cried out and struck out simultaneously, only becoming worse once she was inside and the indoor guard had to drag her through. Again and again she pleaded that she was no pirate, begged and tried to get them to release her to no avail whatsoever. The final end came when one fed up guard grabbed the youngster by the scruff of the neck and pushed her into the wall and unconsciousness.

When Jade opened her eyes, the first thing she noticed was a blinding sunlight. Instinctively closing her eyes, she covered her face with both hands and waited a few more moments before trying again, more slowly this time, and discovered a rather pleasant view of a Caribbean dock-it was quite pleasant, if completely on one side, but held no relevance for the confused whatsoever. Frowning, she muzzily tried to understand what was going on and blinked slowly.

"Ah, and so she's awake. Finally."

"Whazzat?"

The unusually calm, deep voice behind was enough to send Jade shooting from her place on the floor and onto her own two feet, still gazing out at the dock. She realised now that this scene was visible through large open doors onto a small balcony and that she was indoors, then proceeded to sway on her unsteady feet and balked....

But with whom? She waited a few more seconds, unanswering, before slowly turning about, one eyebrow arched, as the man behind the desk finally came into her view. He seemed nothing overly special: just a typical official-looking man, obviously from some fancy background (you had to be to wear a wig that stupid) and smartly dressed. He bore an expression of quiet confidence, yet...

Yet there was no trustworthiness, friendship or any sense of anything but cold formality radiating from the stranger. He gave a false smile in return to Jade's expression, and watched her with a smirk as she whirled back about, eyes searching wildly for the first available exit-covered by two hefty looking men. Again, it was the man who broke the silence.

"Please, I hope you weren't trying to leave so soon. Sit down; I have a few questions to ask of you."

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Jade made the formal assumption that that was not so much a request, but more an order. Taking an uneasy seat on the indicated chair opposite the man, she twitched visibly and then went still again. Lord Beckett didn't seem to become bothered by this – in fact, it gave him all the more chances to put his terms across.

"All right, allow me to make the first assumption: you were captured not long ago and placed aboard the _Interepid_ bound directly for here; am I correct?"

"Yes..."

"I see...so you are the young lady they called Jade, was it?"

Jade's eyes flashed slightly as she looked up, nerves and mistrust colouring her voice. "Y-yes...How do you know my name?"

"There is an incredible value to information, and I intend on gathering what I need before making a proposition."

"I see...and you are...?"

"Lord Cutler Beckett."

"-Control the EITC?"

"Yes."

"Well, now I have _something_ correct with my memory, unlike last time."

"Last time?"

"I...had a few iss-"

Jade broke off at this point with a scowl and directed her bright eyes to the desk, fully aware now of the value of retaining information. Slowly, sensing that that avenue had come to an end, Beckett settled back in his chair and watched Jade closely for a few moments before signalling a rather darkly dressed, serious man a few feet behind to him. Mercer padded up beside the desk and conversed in low tones with Beckett for several minutes, before Beckett said something in a voice that Mercer could probably barely detect. He nodded nonetheless and disappeared, but not before a tray bearing a decanter of alcohol and some glasses was placed on the desk. Pouring two glasses, one was offered to Jade, who spent her time sniffing the liquid suspiciously as the man behind the desk talked.

"I am also to understand that you have been recently involved in a business transaction of services more than once. Your father was the first man you finished one job for." Here he glanced pointedly at the satchel. "Whereas your last one involved an assassination attempt on Jack Sparrow."

Jade stopped sniffing and inspecting the drink, quaffed the mouthful and paused, before shrugging helplessly.

"....Who?"

"Captain Jack Sparrow, captain of _The Black Pearl._"

"I'm afraid he doesn't strike as a name in my mind…_Sir_..."

It was at this point that Jade decided, as she watched Beckett's face fall from quiet calm to mild irritation, that memory of the most recent happenings would not go unmissed. Shifting uncomfortably in her seat, Jade felt several muscles on her face twitch and pulled a weak smile.

"I would advise you not to make this more difficult than it has to be."

"I can honestly tell you now that I have no recollection of that name whatsoever."

"You have been seen _talking_ to him. Now I would strongly caution-"

"Caution yourself and go back to paperwork-I have never met with any captain of any kind over the course of my lifetime, so if you'd excuse me..."

The short young lady stood up from her seat and turned to leave, walking quietly towards the door despite the men either side, and raised her chin defiantly. Beckett took his time in getting up and finishing off his drink as Jade was apprehended by one of the men, and assumed a slow walk towards the fireplace and main door, eyes darting from Jade to the small leather-bound notice by the fire. Wordlessly he picked it up, untied the leather thong from about it and strode back in front of the short captive, whereupon the proudly displayed the notice. It was a death warrant, a sanctioning for the branding and execution of a Jade Starfall (apparently an alias-this was something that confused Jade) under the grounds of Piracy. She glowered from parchment to the man holding it and struggled against the guard.

"You forged those! I'm no pirate."

"Oh, so I did. An unfortunate, but easily rectifiable mistake if I should burn them. All you are required to do is to tell me where Jack is next expected, who he is with, has been talking to, and what he is looking for." Beckett folded both arms behind his back and stared levelly at Jade. She remained silent for a few moments before slowly shaking her head, genuinely confused.

"I can tell you nothing about this Captain Jack."

"Ah, well perhaps we can persuade you to think..._otherwise._"

The sound of steel grating on iron drew Jade's attention away from Beckett and to the man stood closer to the fireplace, but more importantly by the item he withdrew. It looked somewhere between a cane and a fire poker-long, slender iron pole with a wooden grip at the base, leading down to a shaped 'P', and Jade didn't need a faulty memory to realise what was going on as it was placed into the flames by Mercer. A sudden overwhelming sense of panic flooded her senses-something was wrong with the entire thing; she had no memory of what had transpired since she was left lying in the longboat. Beckett turned about and whispered something to Mercer as he withdrew the branding iron from the fire and handed it over to Lord Beckett before disappearing. The man simply rested the glowing hot brand in the flames for a few moments longer.

"An interesting thing. The last pirate I branded with this iron was the same one you have trouble recollecting. Perhaps a jog of your memory and some coercion will be required. Never mind, I'm sure it will some to you soon..."

Flames danced around the brand and Jade tried to bolt against the overwhelming power of the guard who was pinioning both arms to her sides. The second guard left his post and grabbed Jade's right arm, allowing his companion to get a suitable hold on Jade by the scruff of her neck. She tried to move again, but the man simply shook her roughly and snarled something which seemed to still her, and her right arm was crushed in a vicelike grip. Unable to do practically anything to stop it, Jade whimpered and struggled vainly against her captors as her arm was stretched out and Beckett withdrew the brand from the fireplace. Turning back, he offered one last chance.

"You have one final option: tell me about Sparrow _now._"

"I.....can't."

Closing her eyes, Jade bit back a yowl and prepared for the most intense burst of pain she was likely to experience. It was the most excruciating thing Jade had had to go through; the guards tensed against her muscles as they tried to recoil by reflex and forced themselves to keep her as still as possible. Little more than a glazed, half-amused, half-bored expression ever passed Beckett's face for most of the time, until suddenly and without warning he fired off a question as Jade's pain began to become unbearable-optimum time to get the information he required.

"Tell me about Jack."

"I don't know!"

The response inadequate, he pressed the burning brand all the harder, and this time she cried out; the guard relaxed their grip momentarily, and a slight twitch in the face caused Beckett to pull the brand from Jade's wrist and return it to the stand. Even by the time he turned back, Jade was sat as a semi-conscious heap on the floor when the guards loosed their grip, tears of furious pain spiking her hazy eyes as they glared piercingly back through a thin screen of white hair. Expression returning to normal now silence was restored, the Lord nodded to one of the guards and returned to his space at the desk, eyes narrowed slightly as he mulled over the events of the last half hour or so. He glanced over to the guard who had dragged Jade back to her feet.

"Take her to the cells, let her remain there for a few days. I'll have you notified if I want a word with her."

And with the Beckett returned to his careful plotting, now trying to estimate what and how long it would take to reclaim Jade's already fragile memory. All Jade was aware of was the sensation of cold stone under her hands, then she was in her cell again, staring directly up at the window grille that so sharply dissected the thick Caribbean sunlight into quarters. Ripping a few shreds from her opposite dress shirt sleeve, Jade simply tied them about the right wrist, effectively covering the brand she refused to even glance at, and once done never apparently existed. Settling back against the straw-coated floor uneasily, Jade focussed her attention on the blue sky she could see through her bars...  
She just had to wait, didn't she, and pray for a miracle...?

The dog named Poochie had been watching the whole affair with his ears laid flat. He sighed as only a dog can and looked up at the keys...his keys...hanging high up on a peg above the much-more-alert guards. The lordly figure that had been in here frightened him. He didn't smell nice at all. From his place in the shadowy corner, Poochie watched the girl in the cells with his shining eyes and let out a little whine.

****************************************************************

Jones caught the scent of his quarry and stormed onto the deck.

"Sparra is 'pon my waters, men! Strike out northeast at full speed. Make ready to journey below!"

As the _Flying Dutchman _adjusted her course, Davy Jones roared out his next command.

"DIVE!"

Across the ocean, the mighty cephalopod, the Kraken, reeled from its path encircling the island. It sensed easier prey. Something with its master's mark had dared trespass upon the sea. With a gigantic roar, it descended into the waves and sped off after its new target.


	33. A Changing World

**A/N: **For plot purposes, I now hijack Beckett and Mercer. Just in case his writing looks different. Ragetti is possibly under my control at this point too, since his roleplayer became absent. Elizabeth also became without a roleplayer and thus got wangled out of the storyline until further notice. We still need a player for her.

**Chapter XXXIII: A Changing World**

Will felt it was rather fortunate that such loquacious gentlemen had been waiting for his services. Each day he worked, he'd fazed out of half of what they were chatting about, making sure to nod politely as he worked. Their speeches, of which there were many more as unrecorded in this space of time, allowed him to finish both of their requests in record time.

"Sir," he said to Hulliver. "I am sorry for the delay. I hope the swords are to your liking. The metal will most likely be almost cooled now."

Whimsey looked at the man. _He must be the same age as myself, shame he's locked up with such dreary work._

"I would like a particular sword made of metal...I find wooden swords a little ineffective. Oh could they be sharp also... and could my sword have a special glint, and an emblem too. I can pay extra, money is no object." He removed a small pendant from around his neck, and gave it to Will.

Will nodded, somewhat bewildered as he took the pendant. "I beg not to offend you, sir, but is this a mark of your lineage or do you offer it as payment? I only ask since I'm wary of accepting beautiful items on the chance they may be enchanted. As for your sword, I would assume a carpenter would do a better job were you to instead decide on one of wood. For an emblem I simply need to know the symbol and what metal you would like for it, then I shall try my best."

Whimsey looked effruviently at the chap." Why sir. I would not ask for a wooden sword, oh no... I do not care for carpentry. I prefer the cold and lavish company of formed metal sir. As for the emblem, it is to be engraved upon my sword, though feel free to gaggle artistically a little, I am all for the update. As for payment I hope gold will suffice... here take a little in advance." He handed Will four gold coins. "You seem like an honest fellow...can you fight? If you can, I need some brash crew to help my endeavour."

Will placed the coins aside where they were visible to his customer. "I shall only pocket them when you are satisfied with your sword, sir. An honest fellow I should hope I am and intend to stay that way, as a blacksmith and a protector of Port Royal. Forgive my bluntness, but it is not my wish to return to sea. I fight when it is needed of me." He set about smelting metal for the hilt's emblem.

Whimsey was taken aback by Will's refusal of his offer. He looked closely at the poor fellow. "Sometimes I tire of your sort, you know... so lacking in spirit and vitality. Where is your gusto, your flare! I offer you adventure, excitement, glory... and yet you retain your 'noble' badge... to say you would not take life by the reigns and do something for yourself once in a while. Your humility disgusts me. Find your fire sir and I shall gladly give you a great adventure and reward you greatly for it. If you want to sit here and make swords 'honestly' then be my guest. When you want to live your life - come to me, the offer will always stand." He inhaled deeply...he had wanted to say that for a long time to a multitude of different people.

A small flicker of damaged pride lit Will's eyes before he nodded once more. "I will live as I choose and see that my home and my lady come to no harm. If adventure gives me no alternative, then it will have to drag me by the throat. I shall remain here and let gentlemen such as yourselves have all the smithing services they need so that you may enjoy the adventures I would rather avoid. Now, sir, is there a particular picture or symbol that you would like for your emblem or should I be at my leisure?"

Whimsey sneered at the man and stood up tall. "Firstly sir I should like the emblem, and secondly I would like the image of a large stoat, emblazoned with the symbol of power. That should aid in frightening those pirates off. Ha. Well, sir, if you refuse you refuse. I only hope no pirates attack here. Then perhaps see that your responsibility as an honourable man is not only concerned with your own safety." He straightened his collar and smiled.

Will gave the bizarre lord an incredulous look before returning to his work. "As you wish, sir." He shared a secret smile with Elizabeth as she excused herself to rest at home.

Whimsey turned to the man in the corner... "Well sir! You say you have a means of conveyance and the will to earn some money as well as discovering and solving some exciting mysteries... When do we sail!"

Turner noticed that the man Whimsey addressed was remarkably quiet and appeared to have gone into some sort of daydream. Was his workmanship that astounding? he joked to himself. Not too much time later, Will selected a suitable scabbard for his - at last - finished work for the more disagreeable of his customers and offered it over. "There you are Lord Whimsey, one stoated sword ready for use."

"I am quite offended that you would compare me or my sword to a stoat. For that insult I shall reduce your reward from three bags of gold to two, all of course resting upon the quality of your product." He took the sword and perused it gently. "Yes I suppose it shall suffice." He hurled the young man two bags of moneys. "You sure you will not join me in my endeavours? The curly haired fellow appears to have lost the penchant for speech, or perhaps he has lost his mind altogether...hmmm?"

Will managed to stop himself from scowling as he considered the odd fellow's proposal again. His irritating persistence reminded him a little of Jack. He wondered suddenly whether the rogue was faring well after all the mishaps he had recently seen. The young blacksmith's sense of adventure stirred, the pirate blood in him longing for the scent of the ocean. Narrowing his eyes at the not-so-gentlemanly gentleman, he asked, "Where will you be sailing and what do you hope to gain from it? Should I accept your offer, would I be permitted to return to Port Royal in less than a fortnight?"

"I can't see why not lad, really cannot, but you are a working boy with little perchance for culture... I doubt you have reason to return, unless a lady was in question... well, if you have a wife I will certainly permit it. Good wholesome lad like you. We set sail as soon as possible, to find a dashed pirate or two and vanquish him and reap the rewards, and strike a blow for justice against debauchery."

"My thanks, sir. I do have a lady to return to, who I do hope to make my wife in the near future. I should perhaps let her know that I intend to sail with you, however." Will wiped his hands with a none too clean rag. "I suppose it might be best for me to clean myself up a bit too. May I ask, do you have any superstitions about having women on board? I'm afraid if my lady decides to join me on my travels, there will be very little I can do to stop her."

"If you must bring your woman, and if she is certain she wishes to join us then ...fine. I shall try and make the facilities worthy of her joining us. It would be pleasant to have a fair-faced damsel amongst her number...and I daresay heroism on your part will gain you favour in her eyes...no? Go now and consult your lady!"

*******************************************************************

At last the ship had arrived safely to harbour, moored hastily in Port Royal. Jack would have thrown himself to shore, thankful that neither Jones nor his beast had got to him, but something was ill about the town. The docks were patrolled by more guards than usual and after allowing his gaze to wander the other ships, he noticed a few larger vessels dominating the usual trawlers. Suspicious, Jack resolved to keep close to Greythorn for now, hoping that he also knew the place well enough to stay out of sight.

Daemon followed Jack at a more sedate pace onto the docks than what could be considered a 'bolt' by the unusual Captain. Still plotting exactly how he was going to enjoy his revenge upon the idiot and his sister later on, the young man gave the docks a once over, ascertained that he had been here only once or twice, then offered Jack an easy smile, his expression screaming calm confidence and open friendship.

"Thankee for getting me here, mate. Can't tell you how happy I am to nearly be gettin' close to my friend - poor thing's probably got herself near killed if I know her attitude, but she always has been the one to challenge anything, even the Devil if she had a reason. Now then, let's see about getting ourselves inside that place, aye...?"

Still smiling easily, Daemon began to saunter along down to the front row of buildings, and leant against a wall closest to a thin, discreet alleyway, whereupon he gave Jack the option to hide before he himself waited. For a few minutes....

A patrol padded by, and two of the men were beckoned over by a charming smile and innocent wave by an apparently confused, though strong looking young man, and the two well-dressed marines walked fifty yards or so down the cobbled side-street. Daemon stepped out, adjusting the red Naval uniform grumpily about his waist, muttering something about itching and sizes being too small, then glanced up to Jack and picked up a rifle, which was immediately slung over the shoulder. In a few seconds, Daemon transformed his body posture and expression to suit the role, and looked every inch a Naval marine, just wearing an odd smile and carrying a few extra weapons. Giving Sparrow a light nod, he lifted both eyebrows and smiled.

"You can change into a uniform an' follow me normally, or I can go in and you can follow like a prisoner or somethin', or...if you have another idea...?"

_Pick the second one....! Pick the second one!_

Jack took a moment to ponder over the other unconscious guard. He was a bit on the plump side...and the hat would have done little to hide the pirate's dreads. Pulling a wry face, he shrugged and unsheathed his cutlass. He offered the hilt to Greythorn.

"Take this, then. Prisoners can't be seen to be 'aving any effects. Anyway, this place has seen more than its fair share of me in disguise." He shimmied the belt with his pistol on so that it vanished into the recesses of his coat. "I'm keepin' me 'at on though. There we go. What say you now? Clap me in irons or just drag me by me wrist?"

**************************************************************

The crumbling Aztec awoke in a fit of panic, the wood of the ship's walls sloshing all around him. He felt heavy chains upon his wrists, but given half a thought they were gone - created by his mind.

"Heapt taem ma paert..." He mumbled, clawing himself to his feet. Clasping his crooked cane, he noticed his fingers had withered with age and his nails formed as claws. He laughed haughtily and straightened the wrinkled feathers in his headpiece, and whispered a few words to give them youth again. He peered through the cabin door, and saw the thronging mass of civilization before him and recoiled. He was not the most inconspicuous man amongst Europeans. He quickly dabbed his fingers in a pouch of black paints about his person, and marked the eyes of death upon his face. Clutching his staff he strode out on the deck, enlivening in the refreshing winds. He saw the dock littered with guards below him and growled to gain a lone guard's attention.

A guard wandered over, puzzled at the savage before him.

"Oi you! Shoo! get outta 'ere."

Oaxacoco beckoned him closer, the guard leaned in as if in conference. His bone was split with bone and the bloodied uniformed mass clumped to the floor impaled with a bony knife. Oxo bent down and withdrew the knife, and thrust it into the innocent guards chest, ripping it open with surprising fluidity. Finally he thrust he hand into the cavity and pulled out the fading heart, raising it to the sun. He whispered before devouring it whole. Fresh blood returned to his veins, and the ground shook around him. Men fell to their feet. The Earth quaked, the seas rippled, and the old Aztec stood at the heart drenched in red.

***********************************************************

Lord Beckett looked out over the pathetic pit of a town that was so soon in disarray. He grimaced at the sight of shrieking peasants littering the streets. It was a corrupt, vile place. It needed the stamp of his authority and a culling of the bad crop. He dabbed at his brow with a silk kerchief, beads of sweat being the only thing showing his annoyance. He spoke calmly to his top henchman, the sadistic Mr Mercer.

"I want order restored. Whatever the matter, I want it dealt with and I want to hear its cause. Send out more guards if needs be. This place needs to learn that irrational fear is no longer its prime concern. It is progress."

Mr Mercer nodded. "And what of the pris'ner? The young girl that is. Does she need any more...questioning?" He smirked hideously.

Beckett pursed his lips in thought. "Soon. For now she can rest. Then we will let her understand that the longer she waits, the shorter the gap between her meetings with the iron, and even shorter of that with the gallows."

He moved away from the window and seated himself at his desk where he resumed a penned drawing he had made of a little octagonal box.

********************************************************

The great sea beast cannoned into the waters just outside the harbour that was Port Royal. It recoiled a little at the sensation of unnatural forces altering the course of the waves. The Kraken suddenly lost the scent of its prey, but had enough sense to know that it was not far off. With a low grumble, it submerged to the seabed.

**********************************************************

_"Clap me in irons or just drag me by me wrist?"_

_Clap y' in irons an' throw you into a scorpion pit for all I care, you idiotic-_

Daemon was spared an immediate answer from his brain blurting aloud by a sudden disruption in the ground, knocking the man slightly off balance for an instant-but he regained it with a fluid catlike grace, and readjusted his jacket primly. Nodding officially to Jack, Daemon accepted the hanger hilt-first, performed a rather basic few twirls (having never loved swords a great deal) and grabbed the pirate by the wrist, turned him to face the direction of the fortress, and prodded him lightly with his own weapon.

"Right this way, sah."

As the men began to step out, it had occurred to Daemon that this odd disruption in the earth could cause the pirate harm if his sword fell forwards...but then again, what's fun if there aren't a few risks?

"Ouch, watchit mate," Sparrow said amiably as the point nicked him in the small of his back. His smile wilted. The ground was trembling and didn't seem to be stopping any time soon. For a moment he thought that the Kraken must've tunnelled underneath the town. "This does not look good." He shook his head. "Still, we've got business to attend to. If yore pally girl's hereabouts, she's most likely in the cells. Over that way, cam on."

Daemon twitched his jacket tiredly as he skulked down the cells alone. Having gotten this far in with Jack was superb and fortunate, but he needed a few seconds to see his sister first...so, in all good intentions, he'd requested the pirate stay in one of the first cells to wait until Daemon came to fetch him after finding Jade which would apparently 'take a few moments'. It took only that long to find a girl with brown hair laying relatively still, watching the world go by through the small window grille. The keys at his pocket slid into the lock, and Jade immediately sat up, turning about as the unusual young man slid into the cell and locked the door behind him. Bright green eyes narrowed, and Jade began to get to her feet, muttering something darkly under her breath before Daemon began to approach.

He was smiling. She growled and half-raised her hand, but drew it back sighing as the brand began to burn again - this only made the dark haired stranger smile more. She opened her mouth to speak, but he raised a hand to forestall anything and dropped his voice to a 'friendly' whisper.

"Shh, don't worry, I'm not gonna hurt y', I've come to get you out."

Jade narrowed her eyes but said nothing, mind racing to try and catch up with all the events and place them in order as her memory slowly began to filter back. She frowned and took a quiet breath, watching Daemon warily, before he continued again, drawing even closer to emphasize the apparent danger, which only made Jade more curious and untrusting.

"But there are people who want to hurt you. Kill you. Harm your friends. They'll be watching you when you don't expect it, so I have some instructions for you: Don't panic. Don't ever mention me to anyone- you might be telling a friend, but there will always be someone in the shadows to hear you, and that could be very dangerous. Oh, and stick with the pirate who's going to come an' try to get you out- he knows what he's doing."

_If that constitutes as 'he knows how to get leglessly drunk on rum and nearly kill everyone._

"You won't see me again for some time, Jade, but....just keep hush."

Jade blinked. She blinked again. Today had been far too much for her to handle, and the past week was enough to keep her busy wondering who to trust for the next month, but she repeated everything he said wordlessly, her lips forming the sudden question 'why should I trust you?' when the stranger grabbed her right wrist. She bit her lip and stamped on his foot in response. That had hurt, but Daemon bore it with an apparently concerned expression and 'suddenly realised' what he was doing after tugging away the cloth hiding her brand. He smiled almost kindly.

"Not to worry, got a run in with the wrong people? Well, it'll all make sense after a night's rest."

And with that, Daemon grabbed her shoulder and pressed down on a particular nerve. His sister blinked as if tired, then collapsed into a heap. He shook his head and kicked the girl away from him; she usually put up more of a fight; this branding process must be painful. Ignoring that though, and well in the knowledge that when she woke up she would have full memory, he left the door ajar and raced back to find Jack, face creased with concern and relief in one go.

"I found her, but she's in bad shape, and it seems the man what brands people's already been." He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, then began the process of 'leading' Jack into the correct cell with all the apparent intentions that he was a guard doing his duty. Not one of the men posted as sentries had a clue.

Idiots.

What had he been thinking? Being back in the cells of Port Royal was not a pleasant experience. Not only did it make Jack's neck feel sore at the thought of the gallows outside but he noticed that security measures were slightly tighter since his last visit. Only slightly. After all, most of the guards were either unnerved by the sudden tremors or were being called out to deal with the commotion that had begun in the town. Jack allowed Greythorn to lead him about like a dog on a lead, for now. All the while he eyed the various cracks in the floor and bars on the windows, a forlorn expression on his face. Ah well, at least the guards would think he really was captured with such a glum face on. Once he was brought to the appointed cell, he leaned close to Greythorn. He wanted to ask what he was meant to be doing, but he also didn't want to make Greythorn think he couldn't work it out for himself.

"So what'll you be doing while I sit cosy in here?" he whispered.

"You won't be sittin' cosy for one thing, sir." Trying not to grit out the information between his teeth, Daemon indicated with a twitch of his hand, the unconscious young lady currently sharing the cell that he was pretending to lock. Glancing back up, he gave Jack a small smile and looked sideways, swaying with the unusual earth tremors that upset his balance every so often. "I'm going t' create a bit of distraction with the last few guards and get them to....I don't know..._go away_ or something. You can leave and take her with you. I'll try to catch up, but I might have to stay behind for a bit to check all goes according to plan and no one suspects an escape. You mightn't see me for a bit, but I'll be in touch."

He prepared to leave, then glanced back to Jade and frowned thoughtfully. Inwardly, his mind concocted a cruel little idea - he _did_ want to embarrass Jade as much as possible.

"I suppose she'd be best to leave if she's woken up unless you want to carry her, but...I've no idea how, she looks pretty much out rather than sleepin'." And then, just as he was about to leave, Daemon offered Jack advice on a technique that is to this day commonly referred to as CPR, handed back his cutlass, and then left.

Daemon was about to burst out laughing. The pirate probably wouldn't do it anyway, and Jade would wake up in a few minutes of her own accord (which he had, oops, forgotten to mention to Jack) but the idea was a novel one. Sniggering, he decided it was high time to get this distraction going. He tugged out a soft black leather bag from his pocket, opened the contents and tipped the grey blue powder onto the floor by the stairs at the opposite end of the cell to the others. Next, he removed a small piece of string from a bag, lit it on one of the torches in the brackets, and dropped the burning piece of material onto the chemical.

The bright pink flame tinged with blue was much larger than he had anticipated. Jumping back, Deamon took on a worried, desperate tone of voice and yowled out through the cells.

"'Elp! We got magic explosions! Pink fire!"

It was enough. Every guard stupid enough to come too close was incapacitated and thrown into the opposite cell-he could get them all locked up once Jack was gone, then the exit was clear for him to go and find some good old fashioned assassins.

Jack blinked. He gurned after the vanishing figure of Greythorn for a few moments then he shrugged and turned to the unconscious form on the ground. He winced. _Poor young missy..._

"Well, well, Ms Starfall was it?" he muttered. "Tis a sad truth in itself that I'd find you 'ere." He brushed her chocolatey hair out of her peaceful face. _Not complaining about 'er looks either..._

Jack's hands strayed nimbly about her, his eyes ever watchful. Any dangerous effects had been confiscated from her, though he knew generally where they were kept. Nonetheless, he searched her pockets, ever so carefully swapped one of her rings - a silver one with rubies in - for a less valuable one, before deciding to wake her. _Now what was it Master Greythorn was blathering about? Check her pulse, breathing, doing something weird with her mouth...possibly even hitting her..._

"Sounds a bit washy to me. Poke someone, shower 'em with an exhalation, then slap 'em to bruising? Good thing I ain't a physician."

_Although, the mouth bit doesn't sound all that bad..._

Jack crept closer to Jade's head and slowly lowered the side of his face towards her mouth, attempting to hear a trace of breath. Before he could even make a diagnosis, his eyeline shot directly to the reddened form of a 'P' upon her arm. Leaping back from her, he double checked that the cell wasn't being watched before scooping her up in his arms and tip-toeing out of the room.

"You an' me, missy. We're in a lot of cowpats."


	34. The Aztec Invasion

**Chapter XXXIV: The Aztec Invasion**

Turner had done as the eccentric man had bid. Granted that he had meant to tell Elizabeth in person about his hasty departure but it was getting late and she had retired for the night. Their new butler would not have her disturbed, which was odd...but he had agreed nonetheless to leave another letter under her door instead. Now he had returned to the smithy with the intention of closing it. Taking up his sword and a frock coat, he turned to his new captain.

"Sorry for the delay, my lord," Will said to Whimsey. "I am ready to leave when the moment takes you."

Elpshelm was about to reply, when a shaking ground forced him to stumble. The workshop clattered, and Whimsey grabbed his new sword. He pulled a silver pistol from his side. "Well young crewmate, I fear the world has gone awry, let us find this disturbance and cleanse this heathen world. Are you with me, brother Turner? Together we will purge the land and seas of pirates and save every good man we can from whatever ill fate befalls them." As the ground rumbled on, the enthusiastic lord staggered to the door and hammered it open. "Come on, man! Port Royal is in disarray!"

Will's face was wracked with confusion. Drawing his sword, he hurried after Whimsey, making sure to stroke the smithy donkey to calm him as he passed. "An earthquake? Damn. It's so much easier when there's something I can physically fight. We should hurry. If it gets any worse, people might be in danger." He made out onto the streets.

************************************************************

Darkness can be quite welcoming to one after a lot of confusion, agony and feeling generally like some little child in a world full of big, bad men and danger. Jade took the rather calming darkness as an opportunity to reorder her slowly returning thoughts and get a feel for being up to speed. There was nothingness, then she had woken up… Davy Jones…. Jack Sparrow was the target who she needed to kill, and she went off. That odd shack, odd woman, odd pirate. She changed plans- she was safe as long as she didn't hand him to Jones. Then pain. Pah! He hadn't kept his side of the bargain very well. Nonetheless, she'd be happy to keep hers (she wouldn't have to see Jones again at least).

_She felt, outside of her darkness, a pressure on her hand, and then something, someone, removed her ring-bugger, she'd have to kick them for it later._

Then there was dark again, a painful type of darkness with no memory. Apparently she was a pirate, falsely, had her name as an alias and got branded. Couldn't remember that pirate's face, and if she had....she wouldn't be here. That was predictable.

Well, now she was up to speed.

_Someone moved, moved all too close for Jade's liking...._

Bright green eyes flickered open for an instant as the world carefully began to come into focus around her, and then there was someone there. Jade had learned her lesson with people being too close three times since she had woken up, and blinked, then tried to scrabble away, but before she could, she realized she wasn't fully with it and was being picked up. And carried. How humiliating!

Still blinking muzzily, Jade gave a sidelong look to whomever was holding her, and would have groaned, yelled, slapped him or done something...but as it stood, she just sprang out of his grasp with an undignified stumble against the wall. Shaking her head and blinking rapidly as colours and shaped focussed even better, Jade stamped on her feet before frowning at Jack, then opened her mouth to say something and furrowed her brows. By the way he walked, something was going on, and soundlessly she mouthed 'what's going on?' because, apparently, there still needed a few more pieces of information gathered before she possessed all her wits.

Containing his surprise at the girl's sudden waking and half dropping, half leaping from his grasp, Jack backed off and glanced about the passageway before speaking. "Since the clarity of our current coast is looking a bit more than hazy, may I suggest we shift ourselves in an escapingly direction?" Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed her wrist...the one without the scar...and pulled her up the stairwell with him.  
"There's rather more than one thing going on, lass, and I'm not keen on getting involved in either one ov 'em."

Jade prided herself on the speed of her mind, and liked to think that she could at least follow some small segment of Jack's unusual ramblings and twig. "You mean we should run-?"

Before there was chance of an answer or a confirmation, Jack had grabbed Jade's wrist and was off up a flight of stairs. She followed with light, nearly soundless footsteps, and ducked around the corners after the Captain as she muttered and swore whenever she missed a step.

"'s Jones, isn't it? Rock an' an anvil, and you're in the middle. Never heard that before. Alright then, Jack; where're we going? I assume you have a vague idea...?" Somewhere in the back of her mind, Jade didn't assume that; she begged and hoped and wished.

"Er..."

_Jones! Bugger...I actually managed to forget about Jones... _

That Beckett bloke really knew how to give Jack the shivers. At least Davy Jones had a hea- a ticking thing, somewhere. "Well, things seem to have gone a little...awry. There ain't many safe 'ouses left by my reckoning, not while Beckett's got 'is claws in the town. This shaking isn't doing the balance much good either. What's causing it, I wonder? Anyways, your ole pal Master Greythorn cleared the way so's I could save ya. Best thing I can think of right now is getting free of these parts. Maybe we could pay young Turner a visit?" Jack crept out into the streets, ducking out of the way any time someone ran past screaming blue murder. He winced and signalled for the girl to follow.

Jade was lost: Jack was muttering about this Daemon person she had no idea existed, and was apparently her...friend? She brushed the thought aside and staggered up a few more steps, then sprung up after Jack and found herself on the panicked streets. Wincing at the noise level, she just nodded and it was, she was willing to go there if it got her away from this mess. Subconsciously, she tugged her sleeve further over the brand, hopeful that Jack was yet to observe it and followed him.

************************************

The battered Oxo fell to the ground in a crumpled heap, the world trembling around him. After a moment of silence in his mind, he arose as the ground rumbled on. He touched his smoothing face, he felt alive at the very core of his being. He jumped and ran, for the old Aztec was old no more. He had regressed to middle age. With a brush of the feather, and a swing of his staff, the rejuvenated magician sidled into Port Royal proper, the up-heaving town dismembered, confuncted and hysterical around him. Pace by pace, the priest strode on, the whirling land shaking about him, he struck down the puzzled and chased those in fear. He was substantially confused and filled with wroth.

*************************************

Whimsey stood in shock at the horror of a port in panic, as confused men rushed by fearing the wrath of God. He staggered out into the street, and accosted a passer-by. The gibbering man cowered and tugged away from the lord.

"What is it? What the dilly dash is going on!"

"That man he ate-"

The man promptly fell from Whimsey's arms and clattered into a nearby house.

"Mr Turner! It would appear something incredibly bewildering is going on. I think the teetering land is less than half of it."

Inwardly, Will Turner could not keep himself from wavering. The people of his hometown were fleeing in all directions from a foe he had yet to see. He watched as Lord Whimsey tried to make some sense of it from a townsman, but to no avail.

"Lord Whimsey! What is happening? What's attacking us?" Will cried. _Wouldn't surprise me if there was more than one cursed crew in these waters. Not Aztec gold again I hope..._

Weaving in and out of the chaos of fleeing folk, Jack pulled a confused Ms Starfall along with him. The soles of his feet never entirely touching the ground, he dashed out of an alley and skidded to a halt. An oddly attired man had just appeared, Will Turner close behind.

"Will!" Sparrow cried happily. He waved enthusiastically with his free hand, almost losing his balance on the trembling cobbles. Something caught his eye and he looked to his right. He looked back to Will and back to his right again, his inane smile fading rapidly. The something was heading this way, and people seemed to be flocking from it. Normally Jack's instinct was to run...but there was the sickening sense of familiarity with the approaching ... thing… that rooted him to the spot.

The ground pulled still. The freshly youthful Aztec advanced through the colonial streets. The quaking was over. The body of Oaxacoco halted, gripped his withering staff and raised it to the heavens. From whence he drew the rains and the storms, and the thunder fell upon Port Royal.  
With teeth gritted and nails becoming claws he lashed out at the fleeing crowds, spilling blood and scratching flesh. The world was as a blur in his mind, the moving swathes disappeared from his thoughts, and only four figures stood in his path. He stopped a moment and looked upon the unmoved gaggle, blood pouring through his mouth from a still digesting heart.

"Ei weesh tow seeh yoe keeng, geef mee teat Mahsske! Orr ei weel taek yor ayess."

Elpshelm had seen a few strange things in his life, but none had quite measured up to the bloodied heaving figure that set before him. He was afraid, in a panic: Pirate hunting is all well and good, but savages and their curses were not his bag. He stumbled back in confusion as the shaking stopped and the rains fell. As the beastly creature approached he recoiled back clasping his gun, and grabbing Will's hand.

"We are cursed! My man, faithful friend shoot it! Destroy it. Free us!" He grabbed the pistol and began to frantically load it. "What magics are these! Purge him destroy it. It is impure!"

Jack looked as though he might be sick when he saw the sanguine mouth of the Aztec, but his eyes took in the sight of the staff...Oxo's staff...the old man. "Wait, Will!" he blurted out at the blacksmith, not knowing exactly why. "I know 'im. He saved me from being imprisoned on Jones's ship..." He looked anxiously at the wrathful being, not wanting to stand in its way.

Pulling his hand free of Whimsey's grip, Will stood in a combat stance and made a face of disbelief at Jack. "Jones? Do you mean _Davy_ Jones? And...that thing _saved _you?!" He waved a hand at Whimsey, hoping to stay him from shooting. _Jack better have a good reason for this..._

"_Helped_ me, 'that thing' _helped_ me escape Davy Jones, and yes by the way, all that palaver earlier when I bolted off and left you to protect your dolly-belle, that was also because of Jones. Which reminds me...I've got rather a few things I think you'll be interested in!" He glanced once more at the approaching form of terror. "If nothing untoward should 'appen. Business involving your old man."

For all the things Jack knew about opportune moments, he certainly seemed never to pick them.

"My father?" Turner looked puzzled. His father, Bootstrap Bill, was dead...murdered by Barbossa, who in turn was dispatched by the very man speaking to him. So why would he bring it up now? "What do you know, Jack?"

Rolling his eyes, Jack began sidestepping higher up the hill away from the oncoming threat. "My dear William, I knows a lot of things. I know that there's a new power in town that is doubtless going to make hell. I know that a bunch of people want me dead, not that that's news...and I know that you are once again doing something very stupid because you, like me and your fancy friend there, also know that there is a very peeved Aztec stomping our way and if we don't give him what he wants we're all going to be the worse off."

That said, Jack took this break in the conversation to hide behind Jade. _If he can't see me, maybe the less than old man won't have reason to harm me..._

This was all getting a bit too confusing for someone who had woken up only a few minutes ago. Having stepped out on the street with Jack, the first thing that had happened had been that she was grabbed at the wrist again and dragged through the streets by her rescuer, who apparently seemed to know where he was going....she hoped. And then they had halted in front of some young man and a...well, she assumed it was a man, because she didn't get a good enough look before Jack had stopped and she cannoned into his back, stumbling tiredly to a halt as she hid behind the taller man's back and watched the others silently, curiously from mild cover.

And then there just had to be another crazed lunatic. At first she dimly recognized him from the shack which felt like an eternity ago, and her, being the last to observe the most striking aspects of a person, realized what he was doing, saying, looked like: his mouth...blood. Her mental process ground to a rather resounding halt and she blinked twice before assuming a half step backwards. The second man she had caught a glimpse of, presumably, was the one doing the hysterical yelling, before the first man, apparently the one called Will, conversed with Jack as they slowly backed away from Oxo. Her bright gaze narrowed as she mumbled and watched the strange man from over Jack's shoulder.

"I can't understand a word he's saying..."

And then, as if she hadn't expected it, Jade was pressed into the firing line, compliments of Jack, who had seen fit to abandon his dignity in order to stand behind a short, skinny young girl with a rather nervous expression that soon enough managed to calm itself down and become relatively calm. She glanced to her belt -her sword was gone, just as she had suspected, but her pistol was at least in her possession- admittedly. She had no shot or powder for it, but the sentimental value of her personalized weapon was enough to boost her confidence a little. She took another step back from the unusual magic man, elbowing Jack to do the same unless she tripped on him, and flashed the young man, William, a small smile.

"I don't suppose now's a time for introductions, is it? Name's Jade, nice to meet y' and all that. Now then..." Coughing nervously, Jade blinked at the Aztec and realized he was within striking distance. Oh bugger - she took another step back, glancing sideways for a fleeting moment to view the faces of the other three. It wasn't looking great. "What is it he's wanting?"

Peering over Jade's shoulder, his spidering fingers clutching either side of her arms, Jack replied: "Often difficult to tell with old Oaxacoco, but firstmost I think he said something about 'meeting our king to negotiate...or rather demand...the return of some sort of mask'." His lips peeled back from his teeth in anxiety.

Jade felt her own arm muscles stiffen when Jack grabbed her, but simply resorted to rolling her eyes - how could a man who claimed to hold the rank of Captain of a ship be so...skittish? He was hiding behind a young lady of all things...

_He must really not care about public image...heh..._

After a few moments of listening to Jack, she eventually settled for a grim, cynical smile, eyes fixed on Oxo as she spoke in case he decided to try and get near. "And I guess we have no mask, or in fact, a king...well this is going to be difficult." Rending her gaze to Will for a brief second, she shrugged. Then she glanced up to Jack and narrowed her eyes in anxious calculation. "So Cap'n, any ideas other than run or try to knock him unconscious?"

Will scowled at Jack. Once again it looked like he had brought trouble to town and was planning to leave it in the hands of honest folk like himself. "Yes, _Captain_," he sneered. "Tell us what you think we should do. In fact...show us!" His free hand shot out and snatched hold of the pirate's arm. He wrenched Jack from his hiding place and pushed him forwards into the line of fire. "You said it yourself. You know that creature. _You_ can get it to stop." He bellowed out to the Aztec. "You there! A little respect before his majesty!" Will immediately knelt, hands resting on the pommel of his sword.

It had all happened so fast. Unable to take charge of his momentum, Jack near bumped into the maddened Oaxacoco.

_I'll maim you for this, Will. King? _King?? _He won't buy that! I ain't even wearing a crown..._

He drew himself up tall, for fear that if he slouched he'd collapse in a terrified heap. His eyes slid sideways to glower at Turner.

"_Whatareyoudoing_?" he whispered urgently.

Jade opened her mouth, glaring at Will as if he had just committed a murder - well he had, placing an idiot like Jack in front of a dangerous thing like Oxo...

She turned fully to Will and looked half convinced to kick him when he was down like that, but an incredible self restraint stopped her boot in mid rise. She set it down softly and growled at the unknown blacksmith, then decided to follow Jack's example and hiss at him, green eyes flicking constantly to the raving Aztec for fear that he might attack at any one point.

"You can't just do that! Oh lord...."

Forcing on a pleasant smile, Jade carefully grabbed the 'king' by his waist-sash and rather than really tugging him back, placed herself in front again, glaring at Oxo 'down her nose' (though how one shorter than another can still do such a thing is a mystery) as if she were playing the part of some guard or adviser. She wasn't entirely certain of why she was doing it, but it boiled down to two reasons: One was that he _had_ gotten her out of the cells and a possible worse future than branding, and simply that she still needed him to keep Davy Jones away from slaughtering her- it had something to do with bluffing again....

She swallowed the fear rising to make her feel sick with a deep breath before launching into her tirade.

"Shush! Don't y'dare try and threaten the King! If you wish to talk to 'is 'ighness, you have to assure us none comes to any harm - parley like 'kay?" Okay, now if she could have stopped herself backing away fearfully by that point, it might have sounded and looked far more convincing - obviously she was getting rusty at this whole lying process.

The Aztec halted and gnashed his teeth at the assembled posse in front of him. He saw the cramped piratey figure thrust in front of him. He knelt down and growled, spitting at Jack, grinding his bladed teeth.

"Keenga! Yao weel coem weeth mee." He clasped Jack by the arm, stared fervently into his eyes, and whispered, "Aye hav been lookeen faw yaw..." With that he licked Jack's face, smiled a toothy smile and they were both engulfed in red flame. The smokes and fires fizzled and burned, then faded to an ember.


	35. The Aftermath

**Chapter XXXV: The Aftermath**

In horror, Whimsey glared into the flames raised his gun and fired wildly until they were no more. He moved his trembling form and stood where the ragtag pirate had been. "Well, it appears with our stout hearts, my fellows, we have frightened the foul creature away." He gulped and moved closer to Will. "Seems we are done in these parts, let us requisition a ship and cleanse the high seas. If there are many demons and magics out there I intend to rid the world of them. On this clean earth there is no room for beasts! Will, let us go to glory for the good of mankind, cutting the world to a perfect puroid."

The strange young brown-haired lady cringed as Oxo had come closer and grabbed Jack, bright eyes narrowed as she listened to his lacking English skills and determined, correctly or not, that Jack could be in serious danger. The next thing he knew he....what? This stupid Aztec wasn't a dog, ewww...Jade pulled a mortified face that screamed sympathy and disgust, but before anyone could have done anything there was a bright burst of red flame and the young pirate had leaped backwards with a yowl of dismay as she felt the heat. Then the noise, a few shots being fired by someone, exploded into her brain. She turned, glowering, at the hysterical fool who had shot, and then glanced back to...  
....nothing?

She blinked: that wasn't possible, was it? She had heard of strange magics and unnatural beings before: strange creatures or even ordinary people with incredible talents and skills, or just plain differences, but had never in her wildest imaginations expected that their powers could influence others around them to the point of taking away people. It was a peculiar, unnerving little display that left jade suddenly feeling very small and insignificant in the general scheme of things. Her shoulders sagged and a breath of air patiently blew out from between her teeth before she began to swear quietly and in sentences.

That strange posh bloke was talking again, and the foreign girl tilted her head his way to better hear him. He was shaking, and it was only now that she had realized that her left arm felt sore and most of her clothing on that side was mildly scorched. She bent to the task of brushing off the charred little bits and trying to create as few rips as possible as she listened.

_"Well, it appears with our stout hearts my fellows we have frightened the foul creature away."_

_"Frightened_ him? He was bloody laughing you lunatic!"

The man had edged closer to that Will fellow, whom she also gave a decidedly venomous stare. He had started it all by pushing Jack forwards, and now she had no protection, no idea what to do or where to go, and no one to stop her from being killed by Jones - she was back to basics and alone, in desperate need of help. Well in reality, she also needed to join a pirate crew now she had the brand and nowhere to go, and Jack had seemed like the best option - she _assumed_ he had a ship somewhere...

_"Seems we are done in these parts, let us requisition a ship and cleanse the high seas. If there are many demons and magics out there I intend to rid the world of them. On this clean earth there is no room for beasts! Will let us go to glory for the good of mankind, cutting the world to a perfect puroid."_

Okay, so now her jaw actually fell open. She blinked, shook her head slowly and blinked again, in utter bewilderedness at the man. Twice she tried to speak, but it was some time before she found her voice again, taking several steps with her unusual purple boots towards the pair, not so much in a rage, but helpless confusion and shock, small scraps of her charred tunic sleeve fluttering to the ground.

"H...How in bloody 'ell can you just go and forget that happened? That man just vanished in _flames_ and took someone with 'im. If you're a gentleman, you'd go and find him."

_All right, he'd kill him for being a pirate apparently. Thank God I didn't lose the other sleeve._

She didn't really know why she was so desperate to find Jack: perhaps it had been the fact that that stranger in the cells had advised her seriously to keep an eye on him and stay within a close distance. The hints of guilt also had a role to play-he had gotten her out of those cells and been kind enough not to just abandon her in the streets, but now he was gone, she could at least do the courtesy of finding him again-if Jones caught him first, then she'd feel even worse-bloody conscience. It was also a curiosity and something to do: she had no idea where to go next, and if he had a ship at some point, he could take her back home to get a few answers.

She glanced to Will, and reached for her backsword, then swore darkly when she realized she only had the sheath and glanced to the floor in a slightly embarrassed way. She wouldn't get far looking for a vanished pirate on her own with no weapons or ammo, but she had no money either. Apparently the pair of men would be too stuck up and particular to bother hunting after Jack, so she had no other option-it didn't occur to Jade immediately that the tactics of manipulation would work because she was too incredulous and irritated, but she was inadvertently doing that by her own actions and following ones. Turning her back on them, the scorched, branded and irritated young lady began to pad away from the group, her head aching from the overload of events, and muttering to the ground as she began to walk.

"Well you two snobs, I'm off on a pirate search."

Will's jaw had not lifted since the moment Jack had vanished. One moment proclaimed King, the next - _whumpf_! Was he gone? Was he...after all these near misses...dead? _Well that solved that problem_, he thought, and immediately scolded himself.

"What have I done?" he managed to choke under his breath. The sight of the young lady, who had been accompanying the unfortunate pirate, berating him and Whimsey snapped up his attention. Struck numb, he hurried after her."Wait!" Will grabbed her arm, not too roughly. "I had no idea that would happen..." he began, somewhat defensively. Then he winced at the coldness of his tone. "You know Jack?"

One second Jade was skulking off rather enjoying the sense of complete freedom that was brought about by having absolutely nothing, when there was a slight pressure and she ground to a halt-someone grabbed her arm. She didn't turn about, but stared straight ahead down the docks with a stoic expression on her face as she listened. Her pretty face creased slightly with a developing frown at the curt, icy tone of voice, but she picked up in the next moment that obviously the man had regretted it too. That was enough to let her drop her shoulder slightly and turn- all right, so this...Will, wasn't it?...looked nothing like an upper class aristocrat; he might even be downright useful if he was going to help. She pulled her arm out of his unusually gentle grasp and raised both eyebrows.

"Not on a level more than acquaintance, but yes I know 'im. Was tol - instructed to kill him. Don't want to really - doesn't look like he's much of a threat to anyone enough to deserve to die, if you know what I mean. He...uh..." Okay, truth time: was she going to admit to being a prisoner and risk a possible turning in at the hands of this stranger, or trust that Jack had made a right choice in going to see this man? Well if he knew Jack and hadn't apparently _tried_ to kill him, then it was worth a shot. "He helped get me out from th' cells. I just got brought in by accident for false reasons an' received a worse punishment than I deserved... "

Here she gave the ground another long, embarrassed stare before glancing up again with a small little smile tugging the corners of her mouth, the glint to her eyes contrasting with the apprehension and anxiety that already resided there.

"I've got no idea where he's been...spirited away to...so I have no idea...or sword....or a map....or any money....but! I'm pretty sure I know someone who does...and I don't really feel comfortable with just abandonin' Jack to whatever fate that crazy...man...has for 'im either." Okay, so she really, really didn't want to see Tia again, but perhaps....if not, she'd have to use Davy Jones. There was no other option really...

Jade offered another large smile and extended her right hand forwards for a shake, the hopefulness of an ally bolstering her mood already.

"You in to help?"

Racked with guilt at what had just happened, Will - only a little reluctantly - looked to Whimsey. "Well you offered me adventure, sir, and here's a quest to undertake. Will you help us find Sparrow? He may be a pirate, but we've just seen worse things than that. Weren't you just now talking of _vanquishing_ such things?" He raised an eyebrow at the strange lord.

Elpshelm's face creased in displeasure as he looked upon the bedraggled girl. He was not sure what he thought a girl should be but it certainly was not that. She should wear a dress or something. "Now listen here, I am not too fond of your types, or the company you drag along Mr Turner, I suspect that you are of dubious morality. I keep my line on pirates and thieves. All shall be hunted, killed and imprisoned, for the greater glory of my name! But I do agree that there are more dangerous and heinous beasts in this world, which must take priority in my grand purification. You, girl, may accompany if you can manage to retain legality... any hint of crime, girl, and you are in chains! As for this pirate, I have no doubt he is in grave trouble, and our search for devils is likely to lead his way... but when I find him I arrest him and that is all. You will both be gifted a high wage I assure you. Now come let us, investigate and purchase a boat... your call Mr Turner, I am no nautical man."

Will weighed up the options. He didn't much like the general idea of what Whimsey was about. He seemed to be the sort that would find it difficult to make exceptions for unlawful people. Still, he'd helped get Jack out of being arrested before. Whatever did happen to Norrington, anyway?

"Fair enough. You can help choose if you like, Miss...um...?" he stumbled over his words as he turned to Jade. "Miss. The harbour's this way."  
He began wandering down the cobbled hill towards the docks.

Jade simply quirked a quiet eyebrow at Whimsey as he chattered and ranted on and on...and on....pfft....the cobblestones were pretty interesting...

_"You girl may accompany if she can manage to retain legality... any hint of crime girl and you are in chains!"_

The bright emerald eyes flicked up this time back to the Lord and she giggled quietly, her eyes simply saying 'just you try it.' Under her breath she allowed a small little giggle. "Ooh, I'm sooo scared of you." The next thing she knew, and it was wiped off her face rather easily by the stupid idiot's next statement.

_"but when I find him I arrest him and that is all."_

Oh no he didn't.

Oh yes he _did_ the son of a....oh she could have loved to just punch him in exasperation and scream at him to start making sense- she could have lost it, set him on fire...but she didn't, just backed away from behind Turner and stuck out her tongue in as childish and immature a manner as possible before making subtle hand gestures every time he glanced away as she began to mull over what on earth to do. She could just stick up for Jack the second she got there and try to scare Whimsey away, or just...ooh....if she had some gunpowder and shot, she could forcibly 'take custody' of the Captain before the Lord could get to him and begin to bluff again....but what about Will? He was agreeing to it, yet he had felt guilty - did he really want to rescue Jack just to send him to another fate? That was something she would need to see him about. Well, he was talking, and she listened with bright intensity, brushing a stray wisp of ice white hair back from her angled face as she heard him.

_"Fair enough. You can help choose if you like, Miss...um...?"_

Again, another lift of the eyebrows as she waited for the next few words...

_"Miss. The harbour's this way."_

_Oh..._

She looked down the opposite way to where she had been sauntering off and finally, as if digesting this with some consideration, nodded and offered Will a small smile. "Forget Miss, it's jus' 'Jade'. Jade Starfall, at y' service." She padded after the young blacksmith with the smile frozen through mistrust when she saw Elpshelm and simply muttered to him. "But mister high'n'well to do can call me 'Miss Starfall' if that's what suits him best." And thus Jade followed after Will to find a new ship - hopefully ones better fated than her previous two.

Whimsey was bothered by the whole affair. As a boy he was accustomed to little more than a stray insult at public school... he was not ready for these messy unsavoury types. Alas his choice was small and his moneys high. "Right, I will purchase the ship fellows...just lead the way. I will tolerate no cheek young girl! The tongue is for talking, not for flapping. And really you should stop with the contraction... it is simply not attractive." He strode off after Will... hoping that this poor man would know his marine facts and pick a good ship.

*********************************************************

A figure rolled across a slanted wooden floor, a ship's deck to be precise. Its clothes hissed gently with little wisps of steam.  
_Keenga...!_ his memory echoed.

_"Actually, no...wait...stop..."_ - four things he'd wanted to say but didn't quite reach his lips in time.

Jack sat bolt upright. Well, he tried to, but ended up slipping over and gripping the cracks in the deck-boards, since the floor was currently less than horizontal. He moved one hand to his somewhat-slimed face. Aztec saliva...ugh. For the sake of Bootstrap's bootstraps...what just happened? Then he looked at the surface he was clinging to. His eyes brightened suddenly. To confirm his joy, he sniffed the wood. A smile lit his features. He craned his neck to see the fluttering of black sails.

"The _Pearl_!"

In a flutter of magicism the Aztec awoke aboard a ship. He banged his heavy head on the wooden deck before noticing his piratey company. He tried to wave at the excited looking pirate-man, but was far too tired to try very hard. He lifted his aching bones and watched as his hands bled with wrinkles. His youth was leaving him. He would have to find another victim soon, or his senility would creep back in. He rushed out to the deck, after the pirate, and tugged him on the shoulder.

"Aye haff brort yoo hee-er, nowa yaw hal-pa mee, yees?"

Jack yelped as he was grabbed suddenly. He turned to see the rapidly de-ageing face of Oxacoco. "Agh! No-no! No more popping me in and out of places! And no more licky-licking, savvy?" He pulled himself upright, as upright as he could on the sloping deck, and frowned at the creepy man. "I already 'elped you off Jones's ship_ and_ brought you to a decent spot o' land. What more do you want?"

Oaxacoco looked baffled at the confused Jack and tried to lean forward to comfort him. "Aye wass een aya ott mooda soorry apbout te lik ant da flite, wass nee-aded. Ai neet yaw and yawr sheepe." He grinned as his body became frail and leant his weight upon his stick. "laxacao mel O nytipyia..."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Sheep? I don't own any sheep..." He stopped once his brain clicked. "Oh. You mean my ship." He ignored the mutterings that he didn't comprehend. Things that Jack did not understand generally did not exist. Typically human, but often a useful trait. Many a mad man gained a friend in Jack Sparrow for his capacity to totally deny the fact they added the word "tossthatflurgum" at the end of every sentence, or as referring once again to that well-known author rhyming with Cherry Thatchett...were standing there with a duck on their head. "Well, since you did me the honour of reacquainting me with me ship, of which I am very grateful, what may I ask do you require?"

Below deck, two raggedy pirates were bickering in the brig. The scrawny one shushed his friend as his ears caught sounds from above.

"Did you 'ear that?" Ragetti asked Pintel.

"Did I 'ear wot?" the fatter pirate grumbled.

"There's someone up top...I swears it sounds like...like Cap'n Sparrow."

Pintel gave his companion a scornful look. "Don't be ser bloody stupid. 'Ow can 'e be on the ship an' get all the ways out 'ere? Now shurrup an' get outta that cell. We's got a ship to repair."

Ragetti sighed. There was just no telling some people.

***********************************************************

Beneath the waves, the Kraken screeched at the use of eerie magics affecting its prey. Its ancient brain ached as it tried to puzzle out the change of the game. It locked on once again to the call of the Black Spot...

Back where it had been.

With an angry roar, the beast shot off towards the isle where the _Black Pear_l was docked.


	36. Oh

**Chapter XXXVI: Oh**

Finally, after these three long months, Grog was getting off the island. He could see it all laid out before him, sort of. As he trudged after Captain Redbloom and Kestrel he wondered what they were talking about. Grog dragged a giant net behind him, filled with illegal rum, the rum, which had landed him in trouble in the first place. Grog picked out words from Redbloom's speech. 'Aztecs'… there was a familiar word. 'Aztecs'… where had he heard that before? Suddenly memories of running, a lot of running, and the origins of some of his many pointless scars came flooding back.

"Captain! Oh, Captain, a word if I may? You don't wanna go see Aztecs do ya? What have they for you? All cocoa, cursed gold and human sacrifice...so I hears...bad news." He could see no sway in Redbloom's face. "Supposin' I'll hang at the back then, captain...."

Johnny Grog did NOT like what was increasingly more likely to happen, and then they stepped out onto the beach, and there for the first time in five years, Johnny Grog laid his red eyes on the _Black Pearl_.

Redbloom grinned at the boat up ahead and heard the mutters of his new crewman. He puzzled awhile before looking back at the girl then at the smelly man. "Well chaps, my comrades of good fortune, let us get back to this worn-taggered boat and try and escape this filthy pith hole. Hmmm! Let us exert a tag of caution though, ha, I get the feeling that some of my ragamuffin crew might steal away with the ship, guns at the ready... we retake the Black Merlin!" He ran forward, over the beach discarding his cigar on the ground. "Come, crew of mine, and make our escape."

Kestrel hurried after Redbloom towards the tilted ship. "But how are we going to get it moving again?" she called, trying to ignore the fact she believed she'd just spotted a monkey carrying a pawful of dry timber towards the vessel. "And what is that strange noise?" The eerie sound of Aztec mumblings had reached her ears at last.

Albannon hear the crackles and chants of Aztec birth and smiled. "Ah, it appears a friend of mine has appeared aboard this ship.... well this should make a few things simpler...I hope it's him....of course it could be…" Albannon shuddered, grabbing Kestrel by the arm. "Careful Kesty I am not sure what Aztecs make of girls. They might eat them. Ha ha! I am sure you're fine." He pulled her by arm to the base of the landed ship.  
"Hurry up Master Grogson!, Here my lady you wait here, I am going to scale the ship."

He began clambering up the side, his cane between his teeth.

****************************************************************

Oaxacoco crumbled and grumbled and looked at Jack, he poked him with his withering cane and said: "Tox ep tlaact." He began to hum away, glaring at his arm. "Ai woot liek soom hal-pa weeth transapourt, fowr ah frend ant Ai." He continued humming and a small snake appeared on his arm. "Ai neet yoaw an yaw she-ip, yees." He leant down and grabbed the snake in his mouth and supped it down. "Tlol foa nlact."

Almost slipping over again, Jack waved his arms in protest. "No, no! No more of the eating slimy things. We can use me ship..." He noticed the horrible reminder on his palm. "But as you can see it ain't ready to leave, and I ain't either. You said there's a crew hereabouts, so use them!" He forced a smile.

Oxo grinned with stained pointy teeth at Jack, and laughed. He tapped his cane on the deck and leaned toward Jack. "Croo ees heer." His eyes flashed a grassy green as the floppy brim of Albannon's hat peered over the bulwarks. "Hees mae ferend." Oxo muttered in his mind, Redbloom's return meant that his headaches would return. Albannon was a loud man and used many words and phrasings that just confused the Aztec. Still, he had his own private language.

Albannon leapt onto the deck and, stood amazed at the luck and improbable coincidence that let the two men he had been looking for appear on the ship he had stolen. He took a step closer and poked the Aztec with his cane. "Ha ha... it is wonderful to see you sir. Still seasick? Still grumbling? Excellent! Ah, and Jacky Farroh, sorry but I lost you. Had to steal your ship. Thought you had been taken by the lawmen. I need you both and right now, I have been hanging around for far too long."

He gave Jack a violent hug.

"Now fellows, to sea! With a hearty crew, hmm, and a fine plan! Ah and of course my first mate is too be my recent lady friend, Kestrel! Get up here! Ha ha!"

Jack's face had fallen the moment he had espied Redbloom heading for his ship, but he was fairly relieved to discover that the man was not vexed in the slightest by his severe lack of not being efficient in getting any supplies for him. Before he could say a word he had been hugged to choking. Again, he tried to get some coherent speech in, but paused as the self-proclaimed 'captain' bantered on.

"Pardons, mate, but I think you'll find since I'm back and have not in fact been captured by any... men, lawful or not, that _I_ am the captain of this ship!"

Kestrel clambered up the ladder at Redbloom's presumably 'all-clear'. No sooner had her head poked up over the side, she gawped at the sight of the pirate she had encountered once in the cellar of her old workplace.

"YOU!" She leapt onto the deck, almost wobbling off her feet at the unhelpful slant of the boards. "You're Captain _Jack Sparrow_?" she scoffed.

Mr Redbloom raised his hands in a calming manner. "It is all fine, hmmm? Do not worry. First off, Jacky old flappy, you are correct in assuming that you are captain of this ship; oh yes, captain away I have no interest in the lackey work, but, Oh Jackie, I am the leader of this expedition and you are working for me, yes...hmm? Good. Kes, my lady, settle down. This man is called Jack, he is also quite nice. No arguing. I need you both. And Oxo...Oxo, er, well? Just stop whatever you are doing and you will do just fine. All ready? Let 's go!"

Oaxacoco was tired and did not welcome the tirade of arrogant babble leaking from Albannon's hairy face. He glowered from behind his staff, baring his teeth. He espied the young girl and put on a smile to greet her. Unfortunately it was a little crooked: he always felt awkward with girls. He had a gruesome grin. Perhaps that is why he had never married, though it could have been his lily-liver or his tendency for illness. But he could not deny his need for the hairy man. So, he sighed and expelled a fish from his mouth, letting it flap into his hand before freeing into the waters.

"Lel-na OOOooooOOOOOooo Ah Oh."

The waters beneath the ship shook, as a torrent of sea-dwellers rose from the depths and lifted the ship from the salty back.

"Waaterr...feessh. An kour! Anncker!"

Struck with horror at the sudden lurching and rising of the ship, Jack staggered over to the rigging and hooked his hands through the ropes. "No, no! Stop! No, no! What are you doing?" he shouted at the Aztec, panicked.

Kestrel shrieked and toppled onto the deck, grabbing hold of Jack Sparrow's boot to keep from sliding. "W-what's happening?" she cried. Her darting eyes looked from Oxo to Redbloom. "How is he doing that?"

Down in the brig, a petrified Pintel threw himself into the cell in which Ragetti was hiding, praying that they wouldn't slide out and fall out of the hole in the side of the ship. "It's the monster! E's come back ter finish us off!" the scrawny pirate whimpered. He crossed himself. "Oh please don't let our time be now!"

Albannon Redbloom was aflight; the ship swayed, the deck wobbling about his feet. He fell crashing to the floor, shouting and screaming. "Forward Oxo, north, then west, then north west, go!"

And the ship wobbled away from the bank: shaking the crew and heading for the sea, lurching along on its fishy flow.

"Ha ha! Good show Jack, keep her going. The ship is yours to command. I will ponder my scroggly mappings and we shall own that treasure, oh yes, and more besides."

And so the blackest _Pearl_ dragged into the sunny sea, away from that wretched old isle.

Finally summoning the courage to walk on the deck of his now hovering ship, Jack shook the ex-brothel maid from his shoe and hurried over to Redbloom. Not the sort of person to shake another man, he merely gestured furiously in front of Albannon's general aura. "Please get this into your skull, mate, while you've got the moment to listen! I don't want to go out to sea! No sailing in the ocean, no skimming the briny, savvy? Turn this thing around now!" Sparrow rolled up his sleeve and displayed the black mark on his palm in full view. "Before it's too late!

From flat on the deck, Kestrel had not dared get to her feet. All thoughts of striking Jack for the kick he had dealt her were washed away as she caught sight of the spot on his hand. _He has one too! The monster...it's called by us... _She gasped sharply and closed her hand tightly, as though wishing the blemish away.

There was an ominous creaking from the underside of the _Black Pearl_. A sudden resounding thud as it was struck, hurtling from its platform of leaping fish, skimming helplessly across the waves.

Jack tripped into Redbloom, toppling them both to the deck as the already damaged ship was hurled along like a kicked ball. "Too late..." he wheezed out.

Albannon was trapped beneath the flailing heavy Jack, writhing and striking at Jack's person."Get up! Now! Up get! The sea sir! It is eating us!" He felt the deck-boards tilt and he began the inevitable slide into what lay beneath.

The old man screamed as the ship ripped apart; he cluttered for something to hold to, and grasped the young girl's arm. A snake slipped from his pocket and splished into the water below. He gripped the edge and Kestrel tight, his withered muscles tearing as the ship writhed. A great tentacle leapt from the water, he thrust the pointed edge of staff into its flesh, and lost his grip on the ship. Now only holding the girl and the kraken-embedded staff. Drawing the last of his youth into his eyes, he drew the shattering planks together beneath his feet, forming a raft. He looked at the girl and releasing his hand from his precious staff, held onto the mid air raft.

"TLAT EL TOXLACT!"

And so he began to fall, gripping Kestrel by the arm.

Pulled down by the gravity of the magic-woven raft and the Aztec's strong grip, Kestrel screamed as they plunged for the sea below. She caught sight of the slipping figure of Redbloom as she fell.

"Redbloooooooom!"

The falling raft was struck aside by a flailing slimy arm, and Aztec, raft and girl plunged into the deep water below. Surfacing out cold, aboard the raft, the pair floated away from the ravaged ship.

The Kraken bellowed angrily at the piercing of one of its tentacles and lashed suddenly at the body of the _Pearl_. Cupping the hull in its arms, it allowed its hideous, many-toothed jaws to surface and gape wide, waiting for all to drop into it.

Jack Sparrow roared in frightened pain and anger as he dug his nails into the gaps in the deck, desperate not to hurtle after the unfortunate Albannon. A slimy, suckered limb latched onto his ankle. He stamped at it with his other leg. It released but struck out again and snatched around his waist and between his legs. Jack yelled soundlessly, praying that the horrid thing would not crush any harder and plunge him into eunuchy. He braved releasing a hand to his belt, tugged out his cutlass and sliced through the offending creature's arm. He gave a grinning grimace of a doomed man as he heard the monster squeal.

The framework of his beloved ship splintering about him, Jack hauled himself slowly and painfully up the now almost vertical deck. His heart pounded as though it were in some far off land, the din of the ocean and the attacking beast drowned by a hallucination of the sound of drums...

He reached the bulwark and gripped it with whitened fingers. Biting on the blade of his sword, he pulled himself onto the sinking ledge. Steadily he snatched a sail line and balanced. For a moment he glanced out at the faint shoreline of the rum isle, but he could not jump now. The creature was too vast, its grotesque mouth jutting from the other side of his tumbling _Pearl_. Jack Sparrow pivoted about and gazed down into the abyss of foul breath and teeth. One hand still held tight to the rope, he drew his sword from his lips.

"Hello Beastie..."

The Captain and his _Black Pearl_ descended into darkness.


	37. My Ship Has Sails

**Chapter XXXVII: My Ship Has Sails That Are Made Of…Cloth**

Now that the earth had stopped shaking and the screeching hubbub had died down, merchant-folk and townspeople were cautiously returning to their businesses. Will Turner wandered the length of the section of docks reserved for ships on the market. From little fishermen's tugs to brigantines, they were all dwarfed by the mighty vision of _The Endeavour_ several yards along.

A wigged official made a haughty smirk and stood in his path. "May I help you, sir?"

Will did his best to stay polite, but did not feel like being stepped on. "Perhaps you can. I have a friend who is interested in purchasing a ship for a more or less immediate voyage."

Jade slunk behind Will down the thrumming streets and along the docks having thus far gone an entire five minutes without a single word escaping her lips - if that in itself wasn't something to be concerned about, it was high time to be. Of course, not many of the people she would know just about now would have had much knowledge of her, but when Jade normally did go quiet, it signalled that she was in deep thought...and that could lead to even more danger.

She didn't like this. She didn't like this one little bit. In fact, no, she bloody _hated_ it. Stuck purchasing a ship with....with some poncey young whelp who seemed far too polite for his appearance, and , well...how could you describe Whimsey? His idle threats still lingered in her mind as she mooched after the men, feeling for all the world like she may as well not exist. It was awfully similar a story to her childhood, really, or what she remembered of it - always ignored, never really existing to her family. Bitterness, days of bitterness and anger and upset had created Jade's happy and forced façade, but right now all she felt like doing was punching something. It was just happening again - the boys were off for their adventure, and little Jade the pain was tagging along as usual, not really serving a purpose but to hinder.

_Well I'll show them. I've been in a shipwreck (_Jade made the assumption that the reason she found herself injured in a small vessel at sea by the _Dutchman_ is because she must have been on a larger one that sank_)...I made a deal and escaped the devil himself. I made a deal with Jack Sparrow without getting myself killed. I met Beckett and fought my way through a branding...I'm still standing, I'm still here, and I'll show them just what that means- they aren't imprisoning or killing the man who saved me while I'm still here._

The silent reverie and any further progress along the docks was arrested by Will's back, which she almost walked into as he ground to a halt to be interrogated by the official. As they exchanged a few words, Jade allowed herself a swift little glance about the area, bright emerald eyes drinking in the many colours and fantastic shapes of all the ships as she spent her few minutes 'not being here'. She glanced from the smallest vessels to the more impressive ones, and finally, inevitably, her attention was drawn to the sheer bulk of _The Endeavour,_ which forced a worried frown upon her face. This was strange. It was a close one to the smaller _Intrepid_, and that was enough to make a few muscles on her face twitch- a Navy ship. She had always been neutral on the Navy; pirates and privateers in the same sweep- as long as none of the groups harassed her, she didn't care about their jobs and saw them as just that - professions.

But now she was branded...all of that was to change.

And then, stupidly, Jade became fully aware of the dock-front buildings and the pretty azure view she could see from this dock. She had seen the same sort of tableaux not all that long ago. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled as she turned about slightly and raised an eyebrow at the large, official-looking building. So that was where she had been. Hmm...and _that_ must be his office. If she had a ballista…

"_I have a friend who is interested in purchasing a ship for a more or less immediate voyage."_

The drag back to reality was a sharp one. Everything clicked back into sharp focus and the consciousness of time began to trickle back when she finally saw the men talking about ships. A few seconds passed as Jade glanced about the docks for a suitable-looking vessel, and eventually after a moment or two, her gaze alighted upon a rather pleasant one, and she gave a pretty little smile, because underneath all the harsh thoughts, scowls and mud she hadn't yet washed off (but desperately wanted to) she _was_ rather beautiful. But she wasn't so great with the words when it came to interruptions. Lightly, she tapped Will's shoulder and gave him a nervous little smile.

"Erm...How about we try an' get that one...?"

She indicated a small square-rigged Snow near the far end of the dock. It was nothing particularly special - a dark-wood craft, painted only a slight richer shade than it's original timber and carrying a pale lilac stretch of canvas, but it looked sturdy and well-made, with everything suitable for cross-seas travel...she thought.

Whimsey smiled and winced at the good work of the Turner lad. He looked out over the ships around. He was spoilt for choice. "I do not know what the blither I am doing when looking at sea-bound vessels. I would like one that is relative in glory, reasonable in size, and as many guns as we can operate, plus a few more for joy. Oh and it must be fast... cost is no object, pick me one to fill those loose criteria and I shall be happy, Mr Turner. Cost is no object. "

Will considered the differences in opinion for a while. "How about that barque over there?" he indicated one hiding away - as best a large-ish ship could - at the far end of the dock. "Not as large as the galleons, which by the looks of things are not in stock, and fair for speed. Not too few cannons and a generally sound sight." Out of the corner of his eye, Turner noticed some guards muttering amongst one another and looking in his direction. _What are they gibbering about?_ he wondered.

Turner's wonderings were answered as the docksman addressed him. "What is your name, sir? So that the proper paperwork might be taken into account..."

Will narrowed his eyes. "Turner. William Turner. A good friend of the governor and his daughter."

"Then it is even more the pity that I have to do this, sir, because you are _not_ a friend of Lord Beckett. Guards!"

The suspicious sentries rushed in and grabbed Will by the arms.

"Take him and his associates to the cells to await a further meeting with his lordship."

One of the guards aimed his firearm at Whimsey and Jade, gesturing for them to move on ahead.

A few muscles on Jade's face twitched whilst she waited for the arguments and disagreements to desist. Bored already, and itching to just go and set sail before Jack got killed or something incredibly stupid like that, she drove both hands into her deep pockets and sauntered in little circles on the jetty, watching the boats as Will chatted away in his stupid well-to-do voice.

Why did she have to get stuck with these types of people? It just wasn't _fair._ It never was. Such was life, she supposed-if she wanted to get anywhere in the end, she'd have to work towards it stolidly, grinning and bearing any unpleasantries that the world threw up until she got where she needed to be. In this case, far, far away from this horrific Port and its crazy Lord. A sidelong glance was given to the guards, busy muttering and giving baleful glances in the unusual trio's general direction, but she didn't bother with them for long, because once again, her eyes found themselves inexplicably drawn to the large balcony of the huge offices, and a frown crossed her face with slow surety. There was someone up there, and what's more, they were smiling. Bad, bad sign. The frown soon became a grimace, and within milliseconds, a panic as realization hit.

There are quite a number of unusual sounds one makes in an oppressive or frightened silence. An outlet of a whole spectrum of emotions for the vocalist, these noises range from little whines and whimpers to small phrases or even the odd disgruntled mewling or growl...

_"Then it is even more the pity that I have to do this, sir, because you are /not/ a friend of Lord Beckett. Guards!"_

In this one particular case, our little vocalist made a noise awfully close to 'Meep'. Jade never let her bright gaze falter from the docksman as Will was apprehended and other guardsmen began to approach rather cautiously. Hands flexing and clenching alternately, the young pirate grumbled and hardly even remained still for a second as her brain began to process the information and formulate an idea to get Will out so they could leave unhindered. But there's always that little snag, isn't there?

_"Take him and his associates to the cells to await a further meeting with his lordship."_

_....Bugger._

It was at this point that the unfortunate, strange young lady decided that now was the best time to go out of her way to get away without second thought for whom might be left behind. Partially driven by instinct, but mainly by fear of Beckett, Jade backed away with quiet little thumps of her oddly coloured boots, staring uneasily down the muzzle of the rifle pointed at her and Whimsey. The steps began to increase in pace, faster and faster until she was backing up at quite a rate down the jetty, but in fact only got about six feet or so before her back hit something undeniably solid and not unlike a human. Further inspection did, in fact, reveal it to be a rather heavy-set human of the Navy Officer variety; none-too happy and wielding a rather nasty bayonet on the end of his rifle. Grumbling something with language not quite expected of any lady (or man, to be brutally honest) the assessment was decided too risky and she turned back again, pouting.

"I already 'ad a meeting. 'E doesn't wan-"

A heavy hand pushed her forwards rather roughly, which sent her skidding back to where she started by Will, even more annoyed and with a rather large bruise developing over she shoulder too, to add to the misery. Jade soon enough found herself being bullied along with the blacksmith, and Whimsey, back to the cells and, worse, inevitably, Beckett. Rubbing her branded wrist above the shirt sleeve that obscured the scar, the young pirate gave one last glance to the balcony and winced. So much for escape. From the darkness of the buildings fronting the docks, one dark-haired young man dressed in navy uniform could find only one word to describe the scene.

"Bugger."

*******************************************************************

Many hours had passed since her visitors had vacated her home. The trance-stricken voodoo woman sat, unmoved at her desk. Slowly, her eyes opened. Knowing eyes, fringed with pencil-tip dots. Tia Dalma rose and surveyed her shack, sensing what had taken place. Something sinister also. Feeling the unsettling of her blood, so unnervingly human...she clasped the heart-shaped, crab locket from her table and placed it in a pouch at her side.

"Da time is approaching..." she whispered.

She took a few moments to raid her stores for supplies. Then she left her home behind.

********************************************************

It had been several days since Jones and his crew had reached the battered form of the _Black Pearl _moments too late. The _Dutchman_ had surfaced in time to see the Kraken swallowing the last of the ship's mast before sinking under the waves. A mixture of minor joy through revenge and harrowing anguish, at the loss of the treasure he wished to retrieve, tore at his very being. His opportunity for a deeper, long-harboured revenge had been stolen from him. The prospect of his only ever desire felt once more denied to him.

Davy Jones howled and roared into the night, hammering at the old organ with tentacles, suckers and claw, so loudly that he could no longer hear the slow, crystalline sound of the music box...


	38. Inquisition

**Chapter XXXVIII: Inquisition**

Lord Beckett barely batted an eyelid as his three prisoners were escorted, manacled, into his office. He poured out a glass of brandy for himself, two empty glasses purposely placed beside the jug. He allowed himself to blink curiously at the one character he had not encountered, a strange bearded aristocrat, before turning his attention to the others.

"Master Turner, I understand you to have been involved with a particular pirate by the name of Jack Sparrow. Involved, shall we say, to mean that you have engaged in piracy yourself with him and aided the performance of a successful rescue attempt during his appointment at the gallows?" Without a change of expression, he glanced to his female prisoner. "You have also been found in the company of this ... girl ... recently to have been branded as a pirate herself. Ironically, it is my belief that she also holds information on the man I seek."

Beckett ran a finger around the rim of his glass, making an eerie sound. When at last he spoke, he stared at his captives coldly.

"Where is he?

Jade wasn't a happy girl.

Well _duh_, she hadn't been happy for a single second ever since she'd woken up and become embroiled in this whole sorry mess- and that was painfully apparent just by the look on her face, no scars necessary. The shadows under her eyes looked positively thunderous as she just stood there, every sharp angle of her body somewhat accentuated by the stiff posture she assumed, hands in front of her, somewhat weighed down by the shackles (which had been no easy feat to secure, the Navy can attest). Eyes riveted to the flooring, Jade simmered in bruised silence, looking for all the world like a human storm-cloud. She refused to even look up when someone spoke.

Blah blah blah, this smug conversation was none of her business really....her mind was too tired and confused to catch up and plot ahead with others plans, so instead the young lady resolved to wordless examination - primarily of her surroundings in subtle silence. Without tilting her head, Jade could just about see the window behind Beckett's desk - _look down again in case you catch his attention_- and sideways she could see the walls, adorned with whatever fancy items that one usually expects in such accommodation. Hmmm....

Glazing over, her eyesight drifted upwards again, and found itself drawn inexplicably, through some awful curiosity, to the fireplace. A slow blink, and she let it sweep fluidly across to the poker rack and there, upon it, the unmistakable branding iron. Her blood would have run cold with fear just at the mere sight had she not been burning with anger at the time, the result of which left her smoking with a dogged kind of hatred, but still she glowered and glared at it, posture as angular and stiff as before.

_"You have also been found in the company of this ... girl ... recently to have been branded as a pirate herself. Ironically, it is my belief that she also holds information on the man I seek."_

If she had been listening, Jade would have offered Will a sheepish grin or tried to hide her awkwardness somehow, but as it stood, she was just too busy staring with that mixture of anger and fear - a pair of emotions that comes across so powerfully and lends animalistic qualities to the person, at the branding iron. It just...surfaced memories of the past week, and had refocused everything into such sharp relief that it was quite tiring to try and bear all that had happened in her mind-bargaining with Davy Jones and getting attacked in the jungle seemed like months away, but even this morning's incidents with the unusual Aztec did. All that existed was the now...

The hollow sound of the glass snapped Jade back so sharply that she jerked violently from her stance, the chains securing her hands clanking awkwardly as her head snapped up to watch Beckett, painfully alert now that the irritating noise had dragged her back to the present she was supposed to be keeping track of. Now Jade stared at the cold man in front of her, she was in two minds about what to do: she _loathed_ him, and she had seen his actions for what, fifteen minutes at most? He was a conniving, twisted demon living on this planet solely for the purposes of making everyone else's lives miserable hells, and he enjoyed it, too.

But above all, he also made her anxious- she wasn't afraid of the death at the end, so much as the pain to finally get there if he had his own way. He had enough men across the globe at his disposal to remove practically any other force from the seas or land, and the power to do practically whatever he pleased to whomever he wanted. He was not only dangerous, but he was fully aware of it, and was effective at using it.  
His growl cut into her thoughts like a knife.

_"Where is he?"_

Jade glared sparks at the man for several moments as she seemed to contemplate his question: she could do something drastic right now- try and attack him, try to run, try to set him alight with his own brandy...She could try to explain that she had no idea where Jack was (well, except for one farfetched idea - he was dead because of the Aztec, but that would be foolish...) though this man hadn't been accepting of any truths last time. She could lie, but he would find out in the end, she knew it.

Well, Will might say something, and doubtless Whimsey would babble, but for her...

So Jade adopted a mute silence, and once again her gaze went directly between her purple boots and stared at the floor with a hooded gaze, nothing to say, but her very posture bespoke defiance and irritance in itself. Perhaps the others would follow her example and keep hushed about what they didn't know; miracles _do_ happen.

Turner was at a loss. It seemed that the day he had hoped to fill with adventures had gone from bad to worse. He was angry and confused. Maybe helping Jack all that time ago hadn't been a good idea, and now this young lady was a pirate too. Was Jack to blame for that? It was also very difficult trying to work out what he was going to say in such a precarious position. Unfortunately for Will, his bold nature rendered him incapable of accepting the amount of Beckett's power.

"Does the Governor know you are interrogating his people?" he asked, scowling. "As a man with close contacts to the king, I doubt you would be seen in a good light were you to harm myself or Lord Whimsey. As for the girl..." He hesitated only briefly. "She has been placed in our care."

"I will allow your ignorance to be your saviour, Master Turner. I'm afraid I am also one of _the king's men_ as it were, with a considerable amount of resources available to me. In short, I may do as I please. This includes the distribution of punishments to those not in keeping with the law and it is unfortunate that you face the most extreme charge for associating so closely with Sparrow. Your ... shall we say... ward cannot remain under guard by a convicted man, innocent or not, and since she is not the former, must also suffer your fate."

Before either could answer, Beckett looked to his third prisoner.

"Master Turner says that you are a Lord. I can only hope for your reputation's sake that he is misinformed, else you have substantial reason for being caught up in this circumstance. It would be a pity to see a fellow gentleman walk to the gallows alongside a blacksmith and a fledgling pirate..."

She didn't particularly care what Will said about her being under his care- Jade's eyes were fixed to the floor quietly, and not a word passed her lips for fear of making things worse. All she showed, though, was a frown. It wasn't a disbelieving or incredulous frown she wore, but one that screamed trepidation and misgivings about the future- chiefly, she knew Beckett wasn't going to fall for it. And so her prediction proved true, and her heart sunk even lower in her chest. Was there no way of getting around him? Apparently not, and that only made things worse, especially seeing as he was appearing justified in his actions. She hadn't even _engaged_ in piracy, let alone having merit to be branded as such-he'd had those documents forged to obtain information, and now it had failed, she was an outlaw. Her hands twitched severely as she imagined, just for a brief second, pulling the trigger on a gun aimed at him. How satisfying...

Growling slightly now, Jade raised her eyes and stared hard at Beckett again, then gave a mirthless smirk, raising both thin eyebrows archly. "You're a bloody, twisted little demon, aren't you. Out of the lot of us, both you an' I know which side's telling the right tales." She heard the shuffling of the guards by the door, alerting themselves in case they were needed or asked for, but Jade preferred not to hear them- instead she still gave Beckett the humourless smile and tilted her head slightly.

Whimsey was dash annoyed at his wrongful capture, and by proxy his captor. He was sure that if he were innocent, which he clearly was, he would be able to stand up to the interrogator, and as a man of honour he would be set free.

"Well, just excuse me, sir. I assure you that I am a man of honour, and I swear to you on my fair mother's heart, that I am guilty of no crime or withhold of information, which I do not possess. I can vouch for my servants here, they are ignorant by their lowly birth, and as such are loyal to me absolutely and would tell me of any crime they were party to or hence. If they need be punished, you need not waste inquisition on them, I will deal with them and see that any offending information is passed strictly in your direction. Alternatively I could offer you a large sum of money?"

Pretending he had not heard the girl's comment for the time being, Beckett poured out another glass of brandy, this time into one of the empty ones. "I find it difficult to believe that a man who considers himself _of honour_ would also resort to attempt to bargain his way out of trouble. I assume you are aware that bribery is not a wise choice; firstly in that it is not within his Majesty's laws; and secondly, I am perfectly satisfied as to my means. My ends, however, strongly relate to any information you and your so-called servants may give me. The girl, perhaps, I might entrust to you, but I doubt Master Turner to be your responsibility." He put the stopper on the bottle. "Even so, if you would be so kind as to give me your name, I shall take you at your word. You may leave, unobserved, with your female_ servant_. Turner stays here."

Beckett pushed the newly-filled glass towards Whimsey.

Jade raised her eyebrows at Beckett as he and Whimsey chatted almost amicably, and with a clinking of her chains, folded her arms across her chest grumpily. One of her purple boots made a soft thudding noise as it tapped upon the tiled floor, interspersing the silence with the noise until eventually she spoke again. Out of the two of them, Jade would definitely have preferred to leave with Will-at least he had some sort of politeness about him, rather than the brusque and standoffish nature she took Whimsey to have. If she had to go and find Jack with him...things could get difficult, to say the least - especially once they actually _found_ the pirate. She played her part as Whimsey would have been expecting, knowing full well that Beckett knew the truth of her working alone anyway.

"I'm afraid I'm not entirely satisfied we...I...my master; could have your absolute assurance that Mister Turner would be allowed free, or at least safe, unharmed..." Here she paused and gave a tilt of her head. "What importance is this Jack Sparrow to you anyway?"

Beckett leaned back into his chair and gave the girl a lazy stare. "Jack Sparrow is merely a patch of soot on the white garb of society, which I intend to have swept. However, he carries about his person something of considerable value to me." He paused a moment, wondering how far he could push his luck. "Master Turner is in danger of the hangman's noose and so it is my intention to postpone his sentence if he would do me the courtesy of finding Jack and getting him to return to me what is rightfully mine in exchange for a reasonable offer. "The speed and efficiency with which this is dealt with, may determine the resources for Master Turner's defence during his trial. I had also hoped to find Miss Swann...but though I have searched her residence, no trace could be found..."

Will scowled viciously at Beckett. "I would have thought the Governor could have spoken on our behalf. He knows that what happened between Jack and I was necessary for the safety of this town and to rescue Miss Swann from a greater threat. You have no right to threaten Elizabeth. She is a victim of circumstance!" His cheeks flushed with a desperate rage.

"We are all victims of circumstance, Master Turner," Beckett sighed. He picked up and tinkled a bell that was situated on his desk. "It is our choices during them that may save us from folly. As for your _necessary_ defence of the town - leave that to the royal guards. Vigilante rescue missions are inexcusable. It is the responsibility of the Port's authorities to combat the stain of piracy, and not for the public to meddle, for they will only gain themselves a rope fitted for the neck."

Jade still hated him, of course; she still would have laughed to see him panic as realization set in that he was going to die when a flintlock was at his skull; she would still have basked in the pleasure of seeing him, seconds from death, realise that his words and reliance on tactics would end in his inevitable defeat...and she would be the one to administer his final punishment with a smile comparable to a child at Christmas.  
But she was starting to understand him after listening to his responses, even just a little bit – concerning, chiefly, his motivation. He was an upstanding man of honour, prepared to do whatever was necessary to serve king and country - that meant the eradication of pirates. He was in the beliefs of every simple-minded citizen to be the good man; the man who protected them, who saved them, who defended them and their economy from almost certain destruction at the hands of vagabond corsairs and dim-witted, cruel pirates. He believed in what he was doing, and, to an extent, that it was the right thing.

What she didn't understand was his desperation and methods of achieving such goals: it was what confused her already tired mind to pause and ask why-why should he be doing this? Wasn't he the man who was supposed to represent the good in this world against evil pirates? He had most likely done the same with innocent children or non-pirates with forged letters of capture, but why was such a dishonest man spearheading an apparently 'good' company against pirates who, now she was one of them, weren't all that different? Reality felt warped for Jade and, just for a second, she wondered if maybe the world would be far better off without the need for a good an evil-then again, the antiheroes she had read in books had always fascinated her far more then the conventional heroes and villains.

Her head began to pound, and the weight of chafing shackles on her slim wrists was both irritating and painful. She could think of little to say as Beckett and Will conversed about situations she was not present in and piracy itself, so she said nothing, merely stared resentfully at some place far-off in the middle distance distractedly. Something inside her pondered, for a fleeting second, whether Jack had gone crazy by now in the company of that surreal Aztec shaman, but the thought was whipped away in a moment by a calm numbness accommodated with a disconnection from the brain. She daydreamed of little but open space and calm seas, away from the claustrophobic office and its despicable inhabitant.

"With as much respect as I can muster at this time, Lord Beckett, I must beg some pardon for the course of action I chose. Wrong though it was to tangle in orderly affairs, I believed the measures taken less than what was needed," Turner remarked. "I appealed for swifter answers. After the attack on the town, the officials did little to consider locating the pirates who had stolen her. I suggested that Sparrow might know where they were bound, but no one would speak to him. I presume then, that it is a crime to negotiate at all with a pirate, even if the information or aid he can give would save lives?"

Cutler nodded. "That is correct. A pirate is a pirate and any dealings with them of any sort will result in the maximum of penalties. I am afraid this is His Majesty's law. However, I may choose to pursue an avenue of defence provided by the previous Commodore, James Norrington. Unhappily he is nowhere to be found at present, but he may be of use if we were to find his actions hindered the desired protection of Port Royal. Should the item I have lost to Sparrow be laid in my hands, I may suddenly find myself with the time to search for this ex-Commodore."  
A smartly-dressed butler entered. Beckett indicated the tray of liquor, which was quickly removed from the room. He slid open a mahogany drawer and took out two apiece of parchment.

"There is also another method. I have here two letters of marque. One has my seal; the other does not. The sealed letter is to be delivered to Sparrow on the condition he hands over my item. Whoever manages to get it from Sparrow and bring it to me will have their name upon the other and I shall seal it. The unsealed document is a pardon for any offence committed before it is signed."

There came, from Jade, a long pause after Beckett made his offer with a sudden interest. So it was a race then- whoever could steal whatever it was off of Jack and get it back to this desk first was going to live. Simple, definite and sensible. Then why on earth did she feel like there was something wrong? It might have had something to do with the fact that whenever this 'item' was handed over to Beckett, it could be the start of an incredible mistake. It might have been that she was going to have to steal from someone who had an uncanny knack for avoiding traps and keeping items securely close to the person that made it feel like an impossible task was about to begin. It might have been that she would now be pitted against two men, neither of which would be wanting to lose, and both of which were probably no stranger in fighting or disposing of an opponent. It might have been the knowledge that whomever _did_ receive the letters was going to have to suffer watching the other two at the gallows, and the possible guilt after that.

It could just be that she felt sick. It _was_ incredibly hot in here.

She swallowed, then, feeling the acidic tang of bile rising in her throat, and raised one hand ineffectively with the other trailing, though rising because of the manacles, to a heavy clinking of chains.

"Who gets the letter to give t' Jack first off, what is the item, an' do you have any idea where he is so we c'n start searching?" Despite all her misgivings, trepidation and anxiety, one thing was for certain-she was not quite prepared for a noose fitting just yet, and she would fight to keep it so if necessary. Besides, she had one weapon that the others didn't in their quest to steal from the Captain: her gender.

Beckett smiled, which was in itself an uneasy sight. "I will entrust the letter to Master Turner, since he is the more familiar with Sparrow and therefore might gain his trust and impress the seriousness of my offer. But of course it takes more than one to sail a ship...

"I will give you written permission to borrow any ship, bar the Endeavour, to aid your cause and you may both set out together if it should suit. To find Jack, I assumed you would know somewhat more than I do. I received a curious report concerning his involvement in the recent attack on the town, that he was seen in the company of a tribal creature and, as I have been asked to understand, vanished. Therefore I might suggest looking for the creature itself." He tapped the fingers of his right hand upon the desk with impatience. "The object I desire is a simple compass, one that appears broken to most who come across it, but that has particular sentimental value to me."

Will rolled his eyes. "And by _sentimental_ you mean that it will lead you to an island that does not seem to exist and a chest of cursed treasure that also would be deemed a myth -"

"- and which by coincidence _did_ happen to exist," Beckett cut in. "Yes, Turner, I am aware of the occurrences and rumours concerning the crew of the _Black Pearl_ and the gold that drags its owner beyond the mortal normality. I am also very much informed about the disappearance of the Isla de Muerta beneath the ocean. Therefore, the compass can now be of little use, despite what Mr Sparrow thinks, and I merely wish it returned to me to undo the wrong he did by stealing it from me." His stare only wavered by a few too many blinks.

Well, it was better than nothing as a response. Jade lowered her hand a little uncertainly as she faltered when listening to the sudden exchange about some compass and a magical island- perhaps there was something else she did not know about already? Peculiar. And a little unnerving. She didn't voice her opinions, nor make any great fuss about the arrangements either-as long as it all ended in being freed of whatever punishment he had in store for her, a little sailing and stealing was no skin off her nose. Smiling in false brightness now the negotiations were at somewhat of a lull, the new pirate took her chance to get started, rocking back and forth on her boots as she hummed lightly.

"Well then, seein' as it all looks set, can we get goin'? Well, without these leastways." She indicated the manacles on her wrists before offering the man opposite her a decidedly venomous, scornful smile. "That is unless bein' chained is another of the conditions, aye...?"

Lord Beckett gestured to the guards at the entrance to his office and bade them remove his visitors' bonds. "Sir, I mean _Lord_ Whimsey, you may do as you please, though I warn you it may be damaging to your reputation to consort with these...colourful...people. Here is the letter of marque for Sparrow, Master Turner." He offered the parchment, encased in a waterproof binding. "Oh, and please don't entertain thoughts of skipping the matter. Should neither of you return with the compass in six months, you may consider no watery territories safe."

Her icy smile still frozen on her face, Jade allowed the shackles to be removed (somewhat roughly if she would say so herself) then shrunk back a few paces to rub at her sore wrists, the skin already reddened and irritated by the heavy, abrasive steel. Bright emerald eyes blinked as the letters were produced and duly handed over, then they flicked back up to Beckett as he gave the deadline in that same monotonous yet calculating tone of voice. _Well, if the six months 're up before I get Sparrow's compass, I'll jes' stay on whatever land 'm at for a while. You'll be dead long 'fore me, mate. _Silence once again pervading the room in deafening volumes, Jade turned to Will and shrugged before indicating he take the letters.

Will took the letter and eyed it suspiciously. If only he could break the seal and read the contents to check it was valid...and even if he did once out of the sight of Beckett...what if Beckett had him followed to make sure he did not tamper with the document? Nevertheless, he slipped it into the inside pocket of his long coat and nodded sullenly to Jade.

"Let's not waste any more time, then," he said, with a venomous glance towards the business-driven lord. Will nodded to Whimsey, giving him leave to do what he desired, and headed out of the door.


	39. Reunited

**Chapter XXXIX: Reunited**

After a few long weeks of travel with Titan and Surreal ignoring each other, the _Kaelas_ had finally pulled into Singapore. It was just how Surreal remembered it. A deathly swirling mist rested only inches above the water level. At night the silence could wake the dead.

"Looks like I'm home," Surreal muttered under her breath. "Rest the _Kaelas_ here. I will go on ahead," she ordered her crew. As she listened to the sounds of her crew scurrying about, she entered into her cabin to prepare herself, but even as she did this a part of her knew nothing could prepare her for this meeting. "Is my ship ready?" she asked Morgan. This would have been something that she would have normally asked Titan, but she could no longer look him in the eyes since their argument out on the high seas. This had actually been the only time she actually hated her brother. She climbed down onto her boat. Never once did she look at Titan. This was her decision and nothing he could do would ever have swayed her.

As she made her way towards Sao Feng's bathhouse, she couldn't help but let her mind wander into her past to the first time she had met Sao Feng…

Another contract sent her off into Singapore. It seemed to her that Singapore was always in need of assassins. She had accepted this contract only three years ago. She got into Sao Feng's bathhouse with a lot of difficulty. It had taken her three months before she had her first opportunity at Sao Feng, but at the time she couldn't take it, as it would have meant her death. So she waited. When she had finally decided to act, both herself and Sao Feng were near death after the horrific fight that had ensued. He was the only man that ever left her with scars, but, in turn, his face was disfigured by her blade alone.

An eerie sound awoke Surreal from her trance. She was within meters of the back entrance to the bathhouse, and as she silently climbed out her vessel she heard a familiar voice behind her....

"Surreal....why you here?" Tai Huang sneered, "You're not welcome!"

"Huang..." she growled. "I'm here to see Sao Feng! Take me to him.... NOW you piece of..."

Before she could finish her sentence Tai had grabbed her about her neck and pushed her against the wall. "How dare you!" he sneered and he smacked her across the face. "I'll take you, just to see you die." He led her down a dark passageway towards a large wooden door. He spoke as he knocked the door to allow their entrance. Once inside the main door he turned to face Surreal. "Strip!"

After quite a few sneers Surreal had done what was asked. Huang then led her through yet more doors into the main chamber until they faced Sao Feng.

"My lord...... you have a guest." Huang stood back and propelled Surreal forward.

Sao Feng turned around to be faced with the assassin who had scarred his face. "Surrrrreal.... why do you dishonour me so?" he asked mildly. "Morrre steam!" He ordered one of his slaves. "Leave us!" His bellow was heard through out the chamber as it was vacated. As soon as they were alone Sao started to exit out of the main chamber into his study at the back. "Follow me to where we can talk privately."

Alone in Sao's study they finally faced each other. Different things pulled at Sao. He couldn't understand why Surreal would break their deal, or what would bring her here after all these years. The sight of her confused and excited him.

The sight of Sao had brought everything back to Surreal. Why had she come? Even though they'd had a few run-ins since she had last seen him, they had never quite met face to face for so long. "I.... well... you see....." At a total loss for words, all Surreal could do was to look at how much Sao had changed since she had last seen him. "Do you have any brandy?" she asked as she took a seat. She didn't reckon that her legs would have held her up for much longer. She waited as Sao poured her a glass. Her first sip was more of a gulp as her nerves were sky high. She cradled the glass in her hands while Sao topped her up and poured himself a glass. "Where to start...." she mumbled.

Sao could no longer stand there and just watch Surreal. There were lots of things that he wished to know but only one thing he had wanted to do since laying eyes on her after all this time. He pulled her out of the chair into an embrace. Before she could stop him he kissed her fiercely, with all of his built up frustration. When he pulled away he expected another fight but Surreal just stood there dumbstruck.

"There are many questions, and few answers," he whispered. "Only one matters at this moment. What do you want? What brings you here?"

"_You're the assassin? I allowed you into my home and heart, and this is how you repay me!" Sao had bellowed._

_"Yes I'm the assassin...." Surreal paused as she tried to find the right thing to say. "This will be one assignment I will never complete. How was I to know who you were? You never once let on! I was never given a name, just told to assassinate the South China Sea Pirate Lord! How dare you accuse me of only getting close to you for a stupid mission!" she had shouted back. They both lay there unable to move as their injuries were great from the fierce battle that had taken place. Surreal had tossed aside all of her weapons. "'I'm unarmed. Do with me what you will!"_

_Sao just stared at Surreal, "We will deal." _

That was three years ago. Being face to face with Sao was hard on Surreal. As Sao had been the one to give her her stiletto, he was also the one who had trained her in its use. Since the first moment Surreal had locked eyes with Sao Feng, her memory of the last night the spent together rushed back, but unlike normal lovers their last had been a violent one. As they both had lain there close to death, a decision had been made that they would part ways. Neither one of them liked this arrangement but there was no other alternative as they were being hunted.

"I'm sorry to have come at such a time, but I need your help! I understand that I have broken our deal but it was needed. Forgive me Sao Feng." Surreal made sure that in her own mind that she was there only to deal with the Pirate Lord. The fact that he used to be her lover was something she couldn't allow within this deal.

Surreal's formality upset and angered Sao Feng. "What could be so important that you would break our deal?" he asked. His anger gave him strength to be indifferent with Surreal.

"The maps you had sent to me.... I want to know where you got them from, as I need one to an area that no mortal would wish to step. I came across some information recently about my past." Surreal paused while she struggled to get a chokehold on her emotions. "I need to visit an island that is on no ordinary map. This is where I will find my answers. Will you help me in this?" She studied Sao as he absorbed this information. He was one person whom she had felt comfortable revealing her past to. When she thought about that it seemed funny that an assassin was in love with a Pirate Lord. They were meant to be the scum of the Earth, yet she never once saw that side of him until today.

The silence that followed Surreal's statement was immense. "Your past...do you mean the life you had before the Dae La Mon?" He asked as his mind raced. Surreal had always been honest about her past; that she knew nothing of what happened before she awoke with the Dae La Mon. She had also revealed that it had taken the elders a few days to tell her that she had been found laying unconscious washed up onto the shore. Sao also understood that even though Surreal had accepted that she would never know her own past, she would do everything in her power to seek out her answers, no matter what it cost her.

"Yes.... I do mean my life before the Dae La Mon. From what I can gather I didn't just happen to wash up on that shore, I was sent there. What I want to know is why! Will you help me?" She asked. "Sao I do not wish to beg but if that's what it takes then I'll do it! Name your price!" She knew that no cost would ever compare to finally finding out her past.

"I will help you! The price...will be something that I will consider. One thing I require from you at this time is for you to join me this evening," Sao replied. He took Surreal's hand and led her into his room where a feast had already been prepared. "Please join me." He indicated to the feast. "We shall continue our conversation."

************************************************************************************************

A rumbling from the next bathhouse room over began. It began like a faint wooden tremor, growing in intensity with time as, apparently, it was drawn near enough for the sounds of footsteps and sliding wood over wood, coupled with mumbling voices and an incoherent snarling, to filter though into the dining chamber. Loud thunks of something pounding heavy wood echoed in the small commotion as whatever it was was tugged and pushed by irritated-sounding men. Eventually, the sliding stopped along with voices, leaving just the thunking, coupled with the sound of innocent wood being scarred as the footsteps proceeded up a ramp to the chamber.

A knock. The face of a short and skinny Asian man peeped about the door tentatively, before dark brown eyes spotted Sao Feng. Pasting on a fawning smile, the man stepped into the room soundlessly, holding the door open with a foot for the other man to enter as he spoke.

"My Lord, I have a rather urgent request regarding your...Gift. I ha-" It was only then that the man seemed to notice Surreal in the room and halted abruptly, hand straying to the whiplash coiled at his belt for a fleeting instant, but when he sensed little to no tension between the two occupants, he removed the grip and blinked slowly. "I hope I am not interrupting, my Lord, but this situation is getting..._difficult_, and needs to be rectified with all haste."

As he had been speaking this entire time, a particularly large and heavy-set man entered the room backwards, dragging behind him what looked to be a large, heavy wooden crate of nailed planks, all sealed up with the exception of a small hole on the base and a cut slit at the top. The thick iron bolts rattled as the box rocked and moved erratically, furiously with the unrepentant energy of the thing inside. Even as it was in transit, it rocked back and forth, making curious little growls and slamming against wood, and upon being set down....it shuddered violently as if it was about to break.

As if by lesson, the large man took a seat atop the sturdy construction, and within seconds, the weight seemed to prevent all movement from the box. A tentative scratching, a low mutter, and the thing in the crate halted all activity, presumably to sulk. The smaller of the men gave the crate a haughty glare and kicked it sidelong before speaking again, shaking his head ad if admitting final defeat.

"Milord, we had to put it in the crate to ensure it did no more damage again. We left it over some steam vents again to try and see if it would get as sick as before and calm down, but it's not gotten an effect. Three years you've kept it, and the men are starting to get irritated with the injuries...They suggested we just dropped the crate in the waterways..."

The silence inside the box only intensified. The man grinned before continuing.

"Though we were wanting your advice, or if you would like to teach it some more lessons in behaving...? We happen to find that it goes quiet for a few weeks afterwards...what would you like done with it?" He just _knew_ that this was a bad time, but he would be damned if he was going to endure any more bites or scratches from the thing in the crate. He was sick of it.

Annoyed at the interruption Surreal dislodged her stiletto, which luckily hadn't been taken off her. She moved forward until Sao Feng put his arm out to stop her. "What's in that box?" she asked.

"How dare you interrupt me when I'm entertaining a guest! The insolence of it!" Sao sneered. "Madam Surreal, inside that box was a gift of the most unusual nature. She is much like you, fearless, strong, agile.... need I go on!"

"You're telling me a woman is inside that crate!" she whispered in shock. "You will let her out this instant!" she ordered Sao Feng's men. "No disrespect is meant, Sao, but if she is like me, keeping her confined is a very bad idea, of which you might remember. If you would do me the honour of releasing her into my care…?" she asked as humbly as possible.

"You would do this?" Sao asked Surreal. "Then so be it. Release her into the care of Surreal," he ordered his men.

The scrawny man heard the order, blinked, and balked. He wanted to _release_ the thing? That was a danger in itself - he groaned, and backed away towards the crate slowly, motioning the other man to get off of the box. The instant he did so, even he sprang back to the door and disappeared back into the bathhouse where he couldn't be seen by the wild one inside the crate. Biting his lip slightly and frowning, the remaining guard gently removed the bolts and then proceeded to kick the box powerfully, sending the crate's occupant sliding out onto the floor before he too, decided to run before he was strangled with his own whip.

He got three paces. Tam slid out onto the floor blinking muzzily, turned her head and sprang after the man with the unusual fluidity and grace of a hunter. She turned about and ran after the man, snarling, and caught up with him in an instant, grabbing him by the back of the neck and using the momentum to cannon him into the stone wall, where she proceeded to hold him there, growling. Most likely she would have continued and had her tormentor slain in a few gratifying seconds - she was so close...but the other people in the room…she could feel their eyes.

Glancing to one side to see the pair in her peripheral vision, Tam noticed Sao Feng and paused what she was doing. There extended another long pause before she stiffly released her grip on her quarry and turned about, large, unusual eyes filled with venom and spite as they searched the two for any signs of hostility. Slowly, the tail curled about her ankle like some sort of ornamental dress on her sash unfurled and began to twitch with aggravation. She took a few light paces forwards, heedless of the scars that should have made her frightened of the captors, and narrowed the unusual eyes.

"I don't need caring. I cannot be traded or changed custody. I am no one's pet or object. " It was here she had to pause and make an unusual gagging expression that voiced the idea she hadn't spoken much for her entire three years of captivity, and then gave Surreal her full, blank attention, which never left staring no matter what she said, even when she struck out a hand to stay the skinny man with his half-raised whip. In seconds he vanished.

"You are this...Surreal. I heard of you; rumours travel in the bathhouse like fire through fields of wheat. I do not care for your attitude. Pah! You and Feng aren't even supposed to be within Singapore's distance from each other, yet here you are." She offered an unusual smile, before finally, the gaze switched to Feng, and she took a step back, wary but hateful. "An' what would compel you to release me after so long? Another of those tricks your men like to play, no doubt...?"

Surreal watched the feline like creature with a cool professional stare. _The girl has talent but I can see where her training is lacking_, she mused. When the girl spoke, Surreal hid her surprise that she was known to her. It must have been Sao that told her as no-one other than Sao and herself knew anything of what passed between them.

"Ah you see I am what compelled him to release you! You are very skilled young one, but you lack the fierceness that is required for you to survive." She paused while she moved closer to the woman. "You are in my care and I wish to test your skill. Leave us!" she ordered to all that remained in the room.

Sao glared at her but did as she wished as he knew there was nothing he could do to persuade her otherwise.


	40. The Assassin And The Tiger

**Chapter XL: The Assassin And The Tiger**

"All right, young one, if you wish a weapon choose one now, as this is a test of your abilities. I am warning you that I will not be merciful!" As she finished, Surreal circled the woman, sizing her up.

Tam, in response to all this, appeared to be in two minds. A sag came to her shoulders, of relief and fear when Sao exited, and the tail lowered, remaining limp as it dragged on the floor. She gave a half-hearted, friendly little smile to Surreal and shrugged almost apologetically as they were left alone, but Surreal was talking again. Tam dropped her eyes quietly.

"I need no one's care."

"_All right, young one, if you wish a weapon choose one now, as this is a test of your abilities. I am warning you that I will not be merciful!" _

The flat, shifting eyes clouded over and flicked up to Surreal instantly, her expression bespeaking caution or fear, but then she appeared to have a headache and held up a hand for pause, eyes narrowing as she seemed to suffer some immense pain.

_No...I'm not letting you control me now of all things!_

_- But I'm your fighting spirit, Tam. Would you rather you don't get out of here?_

_I....I want to sleep._

_- You have been challenged to a fight, come on, you need to complete this._

_I....She called me young one. She doesn't know what I've been through._

_- We should show her._

_But it might get her killed._

_- She says she won't show mercy, she's arrogant._

_I have no choice, do I?_

_- You know I'm stronger than you._

_I'm not dark._

_- You died. Death is darkness. Life has been restored by myself and you must pay for it. I _want_ to do this for you, so we can see the rest of this world._

_Can I see the Navy after?_

_- Oh yes. Provided I can kill them._

_Agreed._

Her posture changed. She stood up, raised her head and allowed a cruel smile, an animalistic smile to cross her face. Her fingers twitched, her tail fluffed up and flicked idly as she watched Surreal blankly, before finally she spoke again. "I have no weapons. They've broken mine. Give me one and I will use it. But....can I be unmerciful also?" She gave another awful smile and cocked her head to one side, waiting for a response. Naturally, she didn't need a weapon, but it had always felt good to hold a blade or gun. She was going to need one soon, too, if she was going to get out.

Surreal watched in amazement as this woman argued with herself. When her posture changed Surreal decided that this might be the fight she needed to release all her built up frustration. She threw a sword that lay on the side towards the girl. "Here's your weapon. Lets begin!" Surreal announced. Though she herself appeared to be unarmed she still carried her concealed stilettos. Surreal decided to test her. She smiled a sweet innocent smile before she charged full speed towards the girl, but as soon as she was within a metre of her, Surreal flipped over her so that she landed behind her. Before the woman could counter, Surreal back-flipped out of her reach.

"Your turn, young one!"

Tam blinked at the sword on the floor, then glanced up and flinched when she noticed she was being run at. How long exactly had it been since she was offered an actual weapon...to fight with? No limits, a blade...interesting. And if she was called young one again, she was going to claw that crazy lady's eyes out. Tam watched the moves with a quiet speed, turning half-circle to watch Surreal as she flipped and cart-wheeled and moved. She carried all the traits of a bloody assassin. A show-off, with moves designed to impress in sight, before they killed you under the cover of darkness. She was impressive, but still, she was just a human.

Again she tilted her head, smiled and arched her eyebrows before prodding the sword with her tail. Decided upon something, she used the fluffy appendage to flip the sword upwards and caught it in her right hand. An Asian sword. Light, short, with a single wooden and leather handle and no hilt. Seamless, with a weight that was...okay. It was by no means the rapier or backsword she knew how to wield, but it would be effective if she wanted it to be. Besides, her instinct was beginning to take command.

Tam made a mocking bow to the lady before her, and obligingly began to pad towards her, picking up speed across the room as she sped up, sword still in the guard position as she ran. And then she appeared to have vanished. In actuality, one does not naturally expect that when someone is running towards you with a weapon, grinning, they will move to the side and duck against the wall. She came up behind Surreal and began with the first move, a vertical downwards strike at the back. She would have time to block it if she had a blade or evade if she was boring and wanted a broken sparring match, provided she had followed Tam's movement, which someone like Surreal should be able to do easily.  
After all, what's the fun of a match when you can't play with the opponent and gauge their skills first? As she whipped the sword around for the first strike, she gritted out a question. "What exactly do you intend to do with me if I go with you?"

The speed this woman wielded amazed Surreal, but even she knew that her stunt would have put her with a false sense of security as she would have noticed that her movement was typical of an assassin. Surreal decided to do something very risky. As the blade came down she arched backwards so that the blade would be aimed at her chest, and she clamped her hands around the blade. She used the momentum to flick her legs in the air, her bodyweight driving the blade into the floor. Surreal's leg caught the woman's head and as she righted herself she pinned the Tam to the floor, her head trapped in between Surreal's feet.

"To train you! As it seems you still need it. Stop holding back and come at me like you mean to kill me!" she whispered as she released the woman. "Oh and, sugar, if you have heard of me then you would have realized that I'm not just an assassin, I am also a warrior! I was born to fight and trained to kill! Now come at me!" Surreal raised her voice.

So this Surreal wasn't too bad, Tam gauged as she hit the floor. She liked to use unusual moves. Interesting. Her eyes flashed for an instant, and then a voice again. She didn't even bother to get up as she listened. Slowly, she raised her head, giggled, and thudded back down, before she spoke, her voice choked with the oddity of using so many words in a day for so long. There was an incredible amount of patience, blandness and irritance rising in the voice, however.

"I am not a child. You don't bloody own my training, and I don't hold well with being spoken to as a pupil. If I came at you with a wish to kill you, you would be dead." She sat up now, and reached for the sword slowly... "But if that is what you wish..." She grabbed the sword, but instead of going like last time, she threw the weapon hilt-first, and then sprang up after it. The distraction of a weapon being thrown at you was all that was normally needed. Her smile widened as she came up under the blade and made a tackle to Surreal in order to drive her against the wall and into an effective pin. From there, she would try and break her neck. If Surreal wanted the confidence of beating her back down again, though, that was fine. Her muscles hadn't been used like this for a long time, and a bit of practice beforehand was always appreciated.

"Sugar, you are young even if you don't think so! Oh and I've heard that sentiment for years, but as you can see I'm still here," she said before Tam sent the blade hurtling towards her. As the blade neared, Surreal stepped into its path and deflected it with one of her stilettos. She then decided to allow Tam to tackle her as she had a strong feeling that she would be better at hand to hand. It also amused Surreal that she could get such a reaction out of the young one with barely trying. As Tam tackled her, she brought up her stiletto to Tam's throat and applied only a small amount of pressure to only slightly slice her neck, allowing a small amount of blood to flow. Pinned against the wall, Surreal smiled at the girl. "So, sugar, what will you do now that I have drawn first blood? Also, out of curiosity what is your name?" she asked.

There seemed to be little reaction from Tam for a few moments, and instead she busied herself staring at the wall with a carefully crafted expression of boredom until she shook her head and grinned. It was not pleasant. One hand went to Surreal's weapon hand and she gripped it wordlessly, still grinning as she dug her nails, or rather claws, in. It wouldn't be overly painful, but it would make the weapon move away from her neck, which was assisted as she guided the hand down slightly, before her other hand went to the assassin's neck and pressed her against the wall. Her voice was no longer amused; it was an eerie hiss.

"Who said first blood is important? It's the death that counts, and I don't stop, not for training, not for anyone."

She pressed harder- it was interesting to feel this type of fighting again; to get a sense of real strength was amazing. It had been too long since she was drugged and brought here, but now she had the chance, a life to take away. She pressed even harder, and didn't show any more emotion. Surreal could get herself out if she was desperate, but she would find a way again, and even if she had the advantage of a faster brain and an impressive amount of acrobatic skills (Tam possessing little of _that_ after years in boxes and cages) Tam had just one single advantage: stamina. She twitched and smiled, then released her grip and took a few steps back, providing yet another mocking bow.

"Name's Tam. Have no second name that I remember. As for your arrogance, would you like me to try and have you killed? My other side can vouch for it that it's no fun." Another smile, another gesture, and she was ready to go again.

Surreal never even flinched when the claws dug into her throat. She had been in so many situations like this it was second nature to stay impassive. "Tam.....pretty but weird name. Now may I say, Tam, you have good speed but as I said before you have become tame. Look at the marks about my neck. There isn't any blood. If you really wished to kill me then that was your chance, but again you hesitated and stepped back." Surreal walked over to Tam. "Now, little sister, how long have you been confined to that box? You seem to have a thirst for blood, yet why did you hold back on the kill? I am asking you this, as I need to understand. You see, even if you do not wish to have a teacher, in some way you require one. Is there someone other than Sao Feng that you wish dead inside this bath house? I think to fully understand your skill I need to see you kill." Surreal paused while Tam took this in. "What do you say, my young apprentice?"

Tam didn't look happy. A fit of confusion came first, then aggravation and finally spite until eventually she gave into wary staring. She seemed embarrassed chiefly, but angry and vengeful at the same time. Glancing back up, Tam blinked quietly. Her other side was so much better to explain.

"Because I don't kill needlessly. Every death has a consequence. I was killed four or five years ago. The Navy killed me as a pirate, and my body got left in a temple by my close friend. Things...happened. I came back, like this. I got drugged and taken to this place. Three years, and I've killed six of the men working here. I don't like needless death, because I know what's on the other side. I am still me, and that's what stops me." She flexed her hands again, and apparently seemed to be having another internal conflict, but she didn't go back. She flicked her hair away from her face and flicked her tail again. "I'd have any of my tormentors killed, though. I would have had the whip-master, but Sao Feng and you were observing. It was a risk I did not want to take. But seeing as you want me to kill..."

She grinned.

"Bring him back and I'll show you what I can do. As to being your apprentice..." She shrugged and blinked. "We shall see if I really need it after you help me keep my hateful side amused."

"Hmm… you have an unusual past.... three years!" Surreal hissed. "That.... that...." Whatever she was about to say was masked with a thud as she threw her stiletto towards the door. At the sound Sao opened the door. "Sao, bring in your whip master. I hope you don't mind not having him back." The smile she gave him was terrifyingly deadly.

Once the whip master was brought in, Surreal looked at Tam. "In your own time, Tam." Surreal took a seat so that she could watch the slaughter between Tam and the whip master.

There was something..._wrong…_ about the way Surreal appeared to enjoy the entire process. Shifting from foot to foot uneasily, Tam twitched obviously when she saw Sao again, but her attention was immediately distracted by the skinny man when he was brought inside, and her flat, wild gaze changed to him. She locked eyes and he stopped all possible movement, too terrified to run now that he knew it was over.  
With incredible restraint for not lashing out immediately, Tam closed the distance in a few easy strides and threw an arm about the man's shaking shoulders. She looked torn, she looked anxious; she looked like she wouldn't do it. Theatrics were fun, and Tam wanted to play with her quarry first. Wordlessly, she walked the unfortunate across to the door and flung it open, then steered him like a guided puppet to the opposite wall, whereupon her grip slackened, and she wiped the blood her claws had gained from being stuck into his shoulder before motioning to the door and freedom.

"I'm all for fair game. Make it outdoors and you can have your freedom."

Anyone with half a braincell could see clearly that there was no chance. Still smiling openly, sadly, she waited.

He didn't move for a few moments: the space was so short, yet she was watching him so keenly. He dropped all extra weight: his belt, fell to the floor, his boots came off, and his cloak was shed. He also dropped his heavy bullwhip.

First mistake.

And then he ran for it. Second, and last, mistake.

He sprang off at a speed born from desperation, but Tam moved with the fluidity and certainty of a hunter; she gave him a few seconds as she stooped to grab the whip, and then she had caught up. The whip went around his neck- he had been inches from the door. He was dragged backwards, yelling, choking, as the unmerciful holder only tightened the grip. One foot slammed into his back, and she kicked him hard, then released one end of the whip and let him lay flat on the ground. As he sobbed for breath and tried to crawl away, Tam busied herself doing something to the long whip again, knotting, tugging, and then she looked up. He was close to the door again. How cute.

He was caught again, and this time, some form of noose was what had been made of his old weapon. He begged and pleaded to deaf ears as the tiger-spirit within Tam did its work with swift brutality. One tug, and that was it. She smiled. The dead man fell from her grip with his head bent back at a crazy angle. Amber eyes glittered as she looked back up to Surreal and kicked the body, saying nothing.

Surreal had watched Tam play cat to a mouse, which in itself said more about her killing instincts then anything else. When Tam had finally finished and looked at Surreal, she couldn't help but applaud.

"You have a very predatory way to killing Tam, also rather enjoyable in itself. I remember you saying that you disliked killing, but in those few minutes you showed your true self, whether you realize it or not. You play with your prey, so that must mean that you enjoy the kill." She paused before continuing, "You also seem rather disturbed by my lack of a moral fibre, but my dear apprentice you must have forgotten that you are looking at a highly revered and a highly paid assassin at that. Killing is what I do." She paused yet again. "Now Tam, the main question that must be asked is what do you want?" Surreal indicated to the chair next to her. "Sit down, sugar, and let's chat."

Tam eyed the chair with suspicion, but after a few moments, gave the body by her feet one last glance and slunk into the chair. It took a few seconds, as her tail had to curl specifically to permit sitting, but she did so anyway and frowned at the question as, apparently now her bloodlust was satisfied for the moment, she began to act like she may have done before the incidents.

"What do I want? I don't...._want_ anything, I s'pose. I haven't had the chance to choose what I do since I was killed. I don't have a desire for much but to perhaps get a bit of revenge on the man who killed me if e's still livin'....but that's not a want or a desire more as a 'if and when'"  
Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she made no comments as to being called apprentice. She knew her abilities well enough to know what she needed help with. "Why do you ask? I assume you're angling to do me a favour so's I can do one for you? What do _you_ want?"

"You have a very quick mind. Yes there is something that I could use your help with..... I'm about to set out to dive into my own past, and your skills would come in handy. Also it would be nice to travel with another woman for once." Surreal answered. "The choice is yours!"

_If you refuse it better be for a bloody good reason_, Surreal thought.

"If you do accept, is there anything that you wish to learn above all else? That is, of course, if I know how to do it myself." Surreal smiled.

Tam seemed to consider this for a few moments, then offered a cautionary smile and nodded once, her tail flicking quietly across the floor and creating a dull swish sound as fur slid over wood. "You have bought me my freedom from Sao Feng so I can do as I please- that's enough to keep me travelling with you for a little while longer, at least. You offer the chance to see more of the outside world, one I haven't seen for a long time. I'll come."

She paused for an instant, and then her expression flickered to a more intense animal gaze once more and she locked eyes with Surreal - though Tam might not have such a killer instinct in either form, her eyes always had the unnatural harsh and blankness to them; they held an unusual sense of depth and searching, as if she could see hidden things. No one knew she was partially colour-blind because of this. She gave a lopsided grin.

"There _is_ an item in possession I would like to have off of Feng before I go if at all possible. As a parting gift for three years of slavery, so to speak. That necklace of his. That would be an interesting little trinket to own as a little reminder, yes?" Inside, her brain ticked furiously as she raced to remember anything else: no, that was all she would be needing as anything extra atop her next few requirements. "I also have a few more things I'll be needing - a good blacksmith to get specific weapons for me - I have a particular style of fighting that cannot be demonstrated without the correct equipment. I could also do with a tailor for some boots an' a coat."

Her smile widened, then dropped almost instantly as she rounded off her terms with a sudden halt to her tail movement.

"Be warned: I'm not one to sell myself into a bond or pact with you - that's shifting my confinement from one box to another. I follow of my own free will, not of your choice. Is that understood before we get going?"

"Fair enough, sugar. The sword and the attire you can go and get yourself as there is a very competent man living here that has a knack for different weapons. If you wish a guild, I shall ask Sao Feng to produce someone, but the choice is yours." Surreal paused. "The necklace will take a bit of convincing so I shall start the negotiating once you have left, as it might get a little interesting, as well.... you've heard the rumours." She smirked at Tam. "Now, I think we will leave in a few days, as it depends on what kind of weapons you require, and how long it will take the blacksmith to complete them." Surreal handed Tam some gold coins. "That should suffice for the purchase of your items. Any more, just ask." Surreal walked over to the door and shouted for Sao Feng. "I shall see you soon, young one," she said to Tam as she headed back into Sao's study so that she could discuss these matters.

Tam watched Surreal's back as she left the room, and pocketed the coins with a grin. Once you had long fangs and a tail, simple coins had become superfluous in the bargaining system for items. It would do for when she had to be around Surreal however- she had to remain inconspicuous in front of her or lose her temper completely. The second that everything was silent, Tam turned on her heel and stalked in the opposite direction as she padded through the bathhouse, curiously unchallenged the whole way.

"Bugger me if she calls me young one again....I hate 'er..."

_But if she gets that necklace...._

A small smirk alighted her lips as she left the building and took a deep breath of fresh...free air. The bathhouse gossip was good, and history lessons were also rather intriguing...

Plus those few hours at the Brethren court before she got kicked out for 'disorderly conduct' as a young pirate....She was going to show that Teague who exactly could keep to the Code and still pull through. She was going to show any of those Lords still standing! It had been so long, she had forgotten whose gang she had come under - she suspected that Sparrow pirate, seeing as she came from the Caribbean, but it all felt so long ago, and she was only a disruptive onlooker who had blurted out and argued at the time that she really had no clue. Either way, she could attempt to go back with a piece of eight...

Why? Well, just to cause a stir, of course.

And now she had little to no constraints, Tam slipped off into the town in Singapore for her weapons and clothing, confident Surreal would find her later. Well, if an assassin can't follow a girl with a tiger's tail who'd been threatening shopkeepers, she wasn't an assassin at all.


	41. The Piece Of Eight

**A/N: **In this chapter you may discover a rather bizarre insult. Since our dear Ms SaDiablo slightly over-stepped our boundary in foul language, my specially-designed censor system responded. Unfortunately for the poor darlin' I found it so hilarious that I left it in. See if you can spot it!

**Chapter XLI: The Piece Of Eight**

Docked at Singapore, and once again laden with supplies, the crew and Titan were getting restless. He decided that it was time to take matters into his own hands. "Make the ship ready for sail! Let's go do some pirating!" he bellowed.

"What, sir? Abandon madam Surreal?" Stubleg Morgan asked quietly.

"Yes, Stubleg. She indicated that this trip could take a few months, so let's leave her to it and sail the seas! We will come back for her in time," Titan replied.

The fight that they had had still played constantly in Titan's mind, but this was something he felt they had to do. Surreal was a warrior, better than him in her own merciless way, so it would be fitting for her to endure the worry and anger he felt every time she had ignored him. This in its own right was revenge against her.

The _Kaelas_ set sail. The crew spared little thought for their female leader, as Titan was their pirate captain. It fitted them just fine to follow his orders without complaint. Also, the eeriness of Singapore had beared down enough for the crew to wish an escape from these god-forsaken waters.

Titan stared out at the last glimpse of Singapore as it disappeared into the horizon. His mind wandered as he tried to work out where they could start. The best place, he decided was back to the Caribbean waters, so that was their heading.

"Goodbye Surreal, I hope you find what you were after," Titan whispered as he watched Singapore fade into the distance.

******************************************************************

Surreal paced alone in Sao Feng's study, unsure as to how she can confront him about Tam and his necklace.

_What will I have to give up this time?_

All of her experiences with Sao had been awkward and mentally draining. They both wanted each other but with who they were they both made it very difficult. As Surreal would never give up her profession and Sao Feng would never give up his. Their paths crossed often but they never shared the same journey.

_What if I turned away from killing…? No I couldn't, it's the only thing I know how do to. I would never ask Sao Feng to stop being who he is as I would never live with myself. _

This problem had reduced a cold hearted assassin to tears. Whenever she sat alone on her ship, or was lost in thought, it was most likely she was thinking if she would ever be happy, as she was happiest with Sao Feng. She was pulled out of her thoughts and brought back to reality by Sao as he entered the study.

"What?" he sneered. _Damn that came out harsher than I intended. _

Before Sao could apologise for his outburst Surreal cut in. "Excuse me!" She glared at him. She was already physically worn out from her sparring match with Tam, and mentally worn out from her first meeting with Sao. "How dare you get short with me!"

_Here we go again! Just like old times. _"Very well then Surreal, what is it that you require?" He paused before he continued "I see you have allowed Tam to leave the bathhouse alone. That was most unwise." Sao could not even begin to comprehend why Surreal felt such compassion to the tiger girl. It was strange that an assassin would care so much for a stray, for lack of a better word.

"Who are you to criticize me? You're the one who held her captive in a bloody box for three years!" She spoke calmly as she tried to get control over her emotions, but her rage was a living thing as she spoke those words. Only a fool would think that she wasn't primed for a fight. She clenched her fists and ground her teeth before she was finally able to continue as her anger was still close to the surface. "You know what I require, as we have previously discussed this, but Tam wishes to have your chain, a reminder as it were. I have given her money to acquire the rest."

Sao Feng was quickly trying to think of a way that he could calm Surreal's temper but everything that came to mind would only infuriate her more. At the mention of his pendant he glanced down and ran a finger along it. "Mmm, I shall have to give this some serious thought. You see this…" he indicated to the pendant, "was handed down to me through the ages. I will not let it go so lightly. You must give me something in return." _Well this is sure to infuriate her even more. This will be entertaining._

"Me… give you something..." she repeated as though she hadn't heard him properly. Then the meaning behind the words hit her. "You.....you.....egotistical......prick!" She hissed though gritted teeth. "HOW DARE YOU!" Her voice rang out across Sao's private study. The whole room shook with the force. Anyone with sense would have run away at the hatred in her voice. No longer able to sit still, Surreal paced the room swearing rather colourfully about men.

After a few minutes she calmed herself enough to ask the crucial question. "What do you want from me?"

Sao knew better than to reply until Surreal had calmed herself. He thought seriously about the question she had asked him. _What would be equal value to this....? Gold.... no..... jewels..... no...... treasure...... no. _Only one thing came to mind that would be of equal value to his pendant.

The colour drained from Surreal's face. "M-m-my p-pendant?" she stammered. After a few seconds she managed to find her voice. "You know as well as I do that this is my only link to my past before the Dae La Mon other than the small amount of information I have found out in all my years of searching." She paused whilst she considered the problem. "How about this?" she asked. She held out her wrist indicating to the bracelet, silver encrusted with rubies and the Dae La Mon symbol carved into it. "This is precious to me.... I received it the day I received Kaetien. It is a symbol that I belong to the Dae La Mon. The inscription on the inside means 'Born to fight, trained to kill'. Is this good enough?"

Sao examined the bracelet about Surreal's wrist. He understood its meaning as Surreal never removed it. She owned four things that she never parted with. Her pendant, bracelet, Kaetien (her sword) and the stilettos Sao himself had taught her how to use. So this was a promising offer.  
_I doubt I could get anything else of this much value off her. _"I accept your offer." He took her hand and removed her bracelet. He kissed the back of her hand. "There's one more thing, my dear Surreal.... to find the links to your past I will lend you the _Empress_ and her crew.... as the _Kaelas_ is no longer in these waters."

"What do you mean the _Kaelas_ is no longer in these waters?" she asked suspiciously. _He can't have, he wouldn't._

"It seems as though that brother of yours has decided that your destination is not something that he shares." Sao stopped to think. "Does he even realise your destination Surreal?" _It wouldn't be the first time he didn't._

"That whoring son of a dime bar!" Surreal muttered. "I shall be back with Tam. You can give the pendant directly to her, then we shall set off. Spend this time getting your ship ready." Before Surreal strode out of the door in search of Tam she gave Sao a passionate and fierce kiss.

****************************************************************

The _SprayScourge_ sped in from the north and the mysteries of the Sargasso sea. Her captain, the vicious Freeta, a young and hot-blooded corsair drove her onwards into new territories to plunder.

"Put yer backs into it ya slothish duckweeds! If I see one o' you not sweating I'll go to work with me starchain!" Her restless fingers danced on the metal links of the mace at her belt. "I see Tortuga on the horizon, lads. We dock before the sun sets."

The _SprayScourge_ slid into the docks at Tortuga and the Shade Freeta alighted.

"Peskey, Grunt, watch the _Scourge_. Rest o' you come with me 'less you wish to starve or forget the taste of rum on yer palates."  
She stalked off, backed by half a score of ruffians, towards the main tavern hereabouts.

***************************************************************************

"Flagon o' wine," called the red-headed woman who had stormed the bar. "Mead for my men." Freeta laid out a few silver coins.

A bald-headed pirate sniggered from where he looked down off the balcony. "Wine! Ha! Woss matter? Can't ye hold a proper drink?"

The Shade barbarianess cast him a cold glance. "I'd see you under the table drunk with wine before my eyes cloud with the strongest whiskey I could buy."

The bald man laughed. "That's a bet."

"How much?"

"Twelve crowns."

Freeta smirked. "Twenty."

The pirate grumbled but accepted. The drinks were bought and Freeta climbed the stairs to his balcony table, her crewmen watching. They counted for three and began to drink.

***********************************************************

Surreal walked along the narrow and eerie streets of Singapore until she came across the smiths. At last she found Tam.

"Do you have what you need?" she asked as she browsed the shop.

Tam yawned as she spent a few moments adjusting something about her waist, back to Surreal and tail stuck out in a light curve as she worked to secure the new belt she wore more easily, giving the quaking shopkeeper a little smile as she did so-freebies were always nice when fangs and tails were in use these days, much like her large suede leather boots with laces up the front. Offering Surreal a grin as she turned about, Tam simply nodded, wrapping her hands around the opposite blade hilts. They didn't look like much to be honest - simple steel basket-hilts, as if for rapiers, led down to thick leather sheaths on either hip for weapons that were twice as long as a dagger, slightly curved and about twice the broadness of a rapier. When she drew them, the one in her right was a normal curved shortsword, but the other was modified with plenty of irregular indentations, cuts and gaps on either edge, including a few on the hilts. She spun the weapons lazily, feeling the cool steel flipping over her wrists, and cocked her head to one side before sheathing them.

"Aye, an' for free too, would you believe!" As the weapons clicked into place, she threw the coins back to Surreal and motioned for her to leave the shop, explaining as she went. "I'll show you why I had that blade designed so some other time. Did you manage to sort out everything with Feng?"

"Impressive!" Surreal commented on the blades. It didn't take much thought as to why Tam got everything for free, so Surreal tossed the coins on the side for the smith. She would also give some coins to Sao to give to the tailor. Tam never seemed to shock Surreal. "It's all sorted. We shall also have Sao Feng's best ship at our disposal. As soon as we set sail, your training shall begin, my sister," she said as she walked beside Tam, surveying her surroundings, making sure nothing was amiss.

Sao met both Tam and Surreal at the entrance to the bathhouse. Without a word he led them to the _Empress_. He boarded with them and guided them into the captain's cabin without speaking. Once inside he finally turned to Tam, and held out his pendant. "You requested this."

There was a slight eye twitch as Tam had listened to Surreal, but as she padded beside the assassin, she let the comments slip past as smoothly as running water: she could believe what she wanted, she could see how she fought now she had the correct blades again - of course, she could always go and find hers back at the temple sometime- that would be even better! She entered the cabin and gave Sao a stony look until the pendant came forwards. She took it softly, dipping her head in restrained politeness as she fought the urge to try and strangle him with the thin chain itself. In a few deft movements it was looped around her neck and she mumbled her thanks once more.  
So now she had Sao's Piece Of Eight....Oh, she was due to cause a stir if she ever got as far as Shipwreck Cove - she wouldn't be a pirate Lord and the others only popped in sporadically, but Teague was always there, that strange rule-obsessed bloke...

_An' the last time I saw him, 'e had a brat all of 'is own too._

_- Yeah? Last time I checked he was alone, an' throwing me outside the stupid place._

_That _was_ your own fault, really, silly girl._

_- Oh hush it._

_Fine, heh, but if I see that boy-_

_- He'd be an adult now, the time that passed since you were last outside the temple._

_Oh fine, whatever._

Either way, Tam had no idea what she wanted to do with her life, and causing trouble seemed pretty apt for the next time they drew near the cove-her spirit side agreed. And thus, Tam again simply nodded and smiled vacantly as she gave Surreal a questioning sideways glance, tail waving proudly behind her with the energy of one who appreciates freedom.

Surreal tried to contain herself as Tam's attitude towards Sao was so obvious. She could clearly see the girl's wish to strangle him with his own pendant. "Sao, the maps?" she asked, struggling to keep the laughter out of her voice.

Sao looked from Tam to Surreal and smiled at both girls. He too had seen Tam's wish to strangle him, though unlike Surreal what amused him more was that Tam held back, which he suspected was because of Surreal. It seemed Tam didn't wish for Surreal to fall out of favour with her, even if it only meant that she didn't wish to lose the respect that Surreal held for her. Sao indicated to the desk where the map lay. He briefly showed her how to use it before he gave her one last passionate kiss._ "Zai Jian," _he whispered in her ear before he left.

Tam gave her hands a slight glance and flexed them idly as the charts were swiftly explained and left the unusual map upon the desk to Surreal, but of course, it was easy enough to eavesdrop- tiger senses mixed with humans gave her a nice little superior balance-and premonition...or instinct...or prediction, call it what you will, she usually had good senses about whether a venture was going to be good or not. If she wasn't caught by surprise… and something told her that it would be fine....

However, this ship, the _Empress_ wasn't it? She didn't feel good about it at all. As the charts were explained, her curious amber eyes flitted about in the dark as she poked her head outdoors, taking full stock of the crew and ship - something felt...cold about the vessel, as if it hadn't been manufactured with care, but more a desperate need to be elegant or dominant, rather than for the joy of sailing. It was a sour, bitter old ship. That was it. Her nostrils flared slightly, her senses calmed down enough to let her ignore it. Attention went back to the map when Sao got up and she ducked in quietly.

All circles, moving rings and little pictures...her kind of map, heh. She gave Sao a glare that would have wilted the most sturdy of pirates (practically the mirror of tiger-eyes) before she sat down at the desk and began to idly play with the charts with one hand, the other toying with the little, curious pendant about her neck now. She would wait, if Surreal had business elsewhere first - would make it all the better; and if the song was sung, unusually, before then? Well, it would just get even more heated. She blanked out slowly as she played with the charts in random little sequences, pretending that Sao was _not_ kissing Surreal deeply and passionately right behind her. _Love…disgusting_.

The next few minutes for Tam was filled with a slow, mechanical way that she moved the maps, an expression of boredom overcoming her the longer she played. Up to a certain extent, as the body's previous, and former, occupant, began to take more control. Of course it was only a matter of a few more months before the two spirits sharing the same body combined completely, but for now there was still some definition between the two enough to have clear differences in personality when they changed hands, as it were. It wouldn't be something noted, really, unless you were watching very closely, and knew exactly what to look out for: it was very little really-her shoulders lost most of their tension, as did nearly all the muscles in her body as she relaxed, and the downcast pupils began to lose their slit-like, dilated state she got when angry or irritated, and became softer. Her tail began to slow its twitching to a less fever pitch, and her expression turned from boredom, ever so slightly, to intellectual interest.


	42. Uncharted

**Chapter XLII: Uncharted**

Now Tam was back! Her hands began to pick up speed in how the little rings moved, and her second hand came down from beneath her chin to work on the charts too, twisting them this way and that way for the vast multitude of places it could lead to. So many possibilities, it was amazing...

And something had caught her eye. They narrowed slightly as she worked, when a soft hand tapped her shoulder-she didn't even look away.

"Yes?"

"We were wondering where our heading is, Cap'n?"

"Captain?" The woman turned her face slightly towards the pirate who had spoken, but kept both dark eyes riveted on the map as he pointed out the knot pendant and what it meant. The instant he had finished, she turned fully back, waving one hand in the general direction of Surreal, wherever she was, as she worked. "You want Miss Surreal, she's the captain, I just wear the necklace. I'm your new navigator, nothin' more, now leave me alone."

The man, evidently not wishing to be about Tam any longer when she was so busy, vanished to inform the rest of the crew immediately.  
Her hands made light work of the last two rings, that formed the phrase _Over the edge, over again, Sunrise sets, flash of-_

Oh Lord, this was the map to the farthest gate too, wasn't it? The instinct began to unsettle her stomach, but Tam simply moved the charts again a touch until the words no longer lined up and shook herself roughly - she was not going over any edge for anyone, but it was a bit late now...hopefully she could rest her fears by finding the true destination - she always had wanted to try steering a ship again after four or so years. Finally her eyes managed to pry themselves from the old charts to go and find Surreal. She stood up, chair pushed back, as she called to the assassin-come-Captain, her voice suddenly more cultured and at least more coherent in complete sentences than before - another hint to the change.

"Surreal, where exactly are we headed for on this voyage, might I ask? I'll be more than happy to steer us there."

At a loss for words Surreal tried to pull herself together enough to actually think of what needed to be done. A small terrified pirate meekly entered into the room where she was resident and glanced at Surreal. With a rather shaken voice he managed to get out: "Capt'n, where we headin'?"

Surreal gave him a long look up and down. _I guess he's already seen Tam. What an interesting effect she has on those around her._

"You shall know soon enough. Prepare the ship to sail!" she said to the pirate. He carried out her orders as he rushed from the room.  
After a few moments more she finally had a more confident control over her emotions. This hopefully would be the last time she had to say goodbye to Sao Feng in this fashion, or at least she prayed it would be. With her thoughts gathered, she went in search of Tam and her newly acquired maps.

_I should have never let them out of my sight. Where is that girl?_

"Tam!" she yelled before she actually heard her own name being shouted by the one she was actually looking for. She found Tam where she had left her, the maps clutched at her side. Her question intrigued Surreal. _She's seen where the maps can lead… this might be a problem. I only wish to go one place at this moment and nothing will stop me from getting there._

"I see you've had a look." Surreal took the map in question off Tam and opened it on the desk in front of her. She turned the dials until a small island was clearly seen. "This is our destination. It is where my search begins. You may navigate this journey but I will only say this once…" She paused to give a greater impact onto her next few words. "If I find that our course differs in any way, I will not hesitate to kill you. Understand?"  
Surreal hated to threaten Tam, but she also needed it understood that she would not be taken for a fool. This was something that required speed. What awaited her on that island might not wait much longer.

Tam's unsettled nature gave way to open confusion as Surreal snatched the maps back up, almost defensively, and began to show her where they were headed. Her unusual eyes brought the little shapes into focus as she listened to the assassin talk.

_"This is our destination. It is where my search begins. You may navigate this journey but I will only say this once…" _

At this point, she glanced up again, eyebrows lowering as she listened with an even greater attentiveness to the lady, tail twitching as she did so.

_"If I find that our course differs in any way, I will not hesitate to kill you. Understand?"_

Tam left the response lingering for a few seconds, a small smile tugging the corners of her lips before she spoke again, just as calm as before. Now her tail began to lower and cease its endless movement.

"No, you won't hesitate to _try_ and kill me. When my life is threatened, I take matters of combat into a different direction- well, not me, so much as a more violent part of me..." _But not the darkness....I will never release my darkness again....I will never, never unleash that darkness once more...I will not become a demon once more....I promised. _She glanced up again, as if the thought was over. "But you've gotten me out from my troubles, and have given me my freedom and this trinket - I would not try to do wrong by you- I could have commanded Captaincy of this vessel should I have wanted, Miss. Do not hesitate to place your faith in me if you show me yours. Trust in me, and I won't do you any harm- soft as a kitten if you trust me not to scratch you."

Here she winked and tapped the maps, then rotated a few of the outside circles slowly as she talked. "I can see there are some faster currents running here and here. If I deviate the course East by half a day, we'd catch the speedier currents and be there sooner. I'll leave that choice to you though, because it'll be a while before we get that far anyway...." She moved a few more, then seemed to watch some more lined up characters with unease before stiffening and givng Surreal a pleasant bow. "I'll go take my place at the wheel then, captain. Feel free to come over an' all - and I give you my word now, whilst it still means ought to me before I get any worse, that I harbour no intent to harm you whatsoever on this voyage."

And for once she was telling the truth. Flashing a small salute again, Tam vaulted off into the darkness and up around to the ship's wheel. The chinese characters she had read and removed again repeating themselves in the back of her mind over and over. _Turn your sail towards home, release the darkness. _Now she needed to find out if Surreal had darkness issues, and exactly what this island had to offer that could be so dangerous – well, if there were more people like Surreal...that would be plenty of danger to any mortal being.

"Wow she listened to me," Surreal muttered in shock as she stared at the spot where Tam had once been. _Well if she keeps that up I might actually be able to explain to her what I am searching for. Though I'm not quite sure I'm prepared to find out what happened all those years ago..._

Ever since Surreal had received some information concerning her real family she had started to have flashbacks of an island surrounded in darkness, a forbidden feel about it. A danger unknown to all, a sacred place. Upon this island there were no worshippers. The island itself reeked of death. The few that managed to find this island were not only never heard from again, but they disappeared from existence. The chain about Surreal's neck was her only connection to this deathly hallow, and it was the only thing that might actually give her a small chance of surviving.

Every flashback Surreal had had since she received the message always occurred deep within a forest upon this island. It also always contained two people Surreal had never seen before. These, she assumed, were her parents, but in each flashback they were never the same. Something about them urged caution. Something sinister lay asleep upon the island awaiting her return.

Suddenly brought back to reality Surreal headed out on deck to speak to Tam. "All right, Tam, take us the route you wish, as it will give us time to prepare. Give out the orders then come into the captain's quarters where we will start your training." With that Surreal headed into the cabin so she could prepare.

Something twitched in Tam's face as the instructions were given and Surreal disappeared below deck. Was she really serious about training? It made her nervous to even think about it, now she had weapons. _I don't practise fighting, I perform the arts of combat. I don't train or make half-hearted attempts- I was trained to fight, and when you are fighting with purpose... you kill. You don't stop, you don't train, and these weapons don't allow for a halt in motion. You follow the attack through and you kill because it relies on speed and aggressive power. Like water, it flows on...._  
Tam released her irritated grip on the wheel and adjusted course quietly, waiting for the wind to fill the sails enough so she could leave the vessel lashed on course.

A little time passed before, after a bit, a noise started to distract Tam from her work. She blinked and shook her head slightly, pulling an expression that bespoke of annoyance as the awful ringing, screaming sound began to intensify and she tightened her grasp on the wheel. Curious, she let go and walked backwards a few paces, managing to find a spot where the ship had once been, and found that there was an invisible line where the sound reached, and they were in it. Gritting her teeth, she went back to the wheel and bowed her head doggedly. Moments passed and the sound only seemed to get louder and more painful. Tam's grip again tightened on the wheel as she began to feel the sound digging into her brain, burning into her memory like a brand - the high-pitched, wailing dirge, like a scream...so loud...

Brown eyes growing anxious, she opened her mouth and, panting lightly, glanced over the deck. No one else seemed to be affected by the noise; men and women worked on the vessel's upkeep with stern silence and occasional mutters, muted by the god awful sound that was being made. How couldn't they hear it? A hearing range probably restricted them from it, shielded them from the sound...

She spent a few moments trying to ignore it, but it was making her ears feel like they were bleeding. So painful, so heartbreaking, and it made Tam begin to whimper in pain as it only intensified. Her grip on the wheel was producing splinters now - her tail was fluffed up and her body stood rigid as she tried to stay awake in the face of the noise, hissing and whining as it only seemed to dig into her very self....

There was another spirit here...and something else. Something she didn't understand-a sentient being, but one completely alien to her. And it sent pictures. Nasty, bad pictures, things she didn't want to remember. Finding the dark side, her demon...she _was_ a demon. Further back in time- back to temple walls, her own blood, growling and an incredible pain as she breathed again...

And death. Dying was the worst experience to have happened to her. Not that it wan't bad, but getting there....it had been so painful.  
Run through, she had collapsed. The man kicked her, saw her dying, watched her twitching, bleeding, dying...grinned. He smiled, pressed her injuries to see if she could bleed faster, then knelt down and waited. Watched her, smiling.

Twisted little bugger.

And then it came. A burst of indescribable pain lanced through her body, her head felt like exploding as the sound reached an almighty crescendo and the images stopped on a strange island. She had never felt so horrendous, and it was unstoppable. She threw her weight against the wheel for support, knowing her legs were buckling underneath her, and slumped against the large structure as slowly, unmercifully, she slipped into the realms of darkness in the pain, her tail thudding quietly on the deck as it ceased all movement. From a distance, or even perhaps close by, one may have just seen her slumped up by the wheel, probably asleep - and... didn't she have a training lesson already?


	43. Where Are We Going Again?

**Chapter XLIII: Where Are We Going Again?**

Far away, on an island of nothing, in a world that was nowhere, there were dunes. Beyond the dunes, there was nothing, solid nothing, white solid nothing.

And a ship that should not have existed.

Her torn sails strained to flutter in a breeze-less sky. Her anchor, laden with dusty seaweed, begged to sink through the pale ground below.  
A shot rang out from the crow's nest as someone fired at a bird in some other universe. Putting the smoking pistol back into its holster, the figure sang an off-key tune.

_"There once was a man and a merry, merry man was he. He was one man, and yet many men, and many, many men he be. All together, many men forever, he was a merry man, those merry, many, many men, that never get out to seaaaa! Ohhh...there once was a man, aND A MERRY, MERRY MAN WAS - urrkkk!"_

Another shot had rung out from the deck below. The late singer toppled to the boards with a gruesome crunch. Three peanuts rolled from the body's hand.

Captain Jack Sparrow, fingers still clutched firmly to his flintlock, reached down to pick up his prize and nibbled delicately at the white kernels.

"Flamin' disorder's what it is..." he mumbled.

His wild eyes challenged his crewmen, each of them sporting a familiar image...red bandanna, blackened eye-circles, dreadlocks, ringed fingers... identical. But...BUT! He was the Sparrow with the hat. They were lazy sods playing at tricks; trying to confuse their captain; mutinous dogs. He scowled at those apparently hard at work in the rigging, polishing the cannons, scrubbing the floors, seducing a goat, carrying pails, staying the sails, making shoddily with the moor lines...and -

_Goat. I don't remember bringing a goat on board..._

He still felt alone, even with these worthless ingrates that had just popped up one day. Mimicking baboons the lot of 'em. Everything was gone. The sea. The wind. Places to pillage, ships to plunder. Everything. The universe had abandoned Jack, so he abandoned the universe. He unsheathed his cutlass and eyed an otherwise innocent-looking doppelganger. All these years, he'd never taken to pointless killings. Yet this was different.

He would take it out on them...

******************************************************

Days had tricked by since Beckett had released herself and William from his infernal office under strict commands to bring back Jack's compass in no less than six month's time, and still Jade was mulling over the instructions like a criminal mulls over their death sentence - with unerring, wary and grim fascination. Sat near the wheel with her elbows on her knees, she stared long and hard at the ornate pistol of hers in her hands, turning it so the silver leopard face at the base of the heavy object snarled fiercely back at her, empty eyes glowing with some skilfully forged fury. She ran her fingers over the intricate work deftly, appreciating the craftsmanship of the weapon as she mused their situation and the recent events. The officers at the docks had been wary of the two detainees at first, and their request for a strong, fast ship, but after some...negotiating with an empty pistol and signed papers in hand, they were out on the open seas in a fine craft.

Wonderful, yes, liberating also; the fresh breeze and colourful surroundings were pefect. Her emerald eyes glanced up for a moment to appreciate the many blues of the wild skies, the pale clouds and the incredible, glass-flat waves stretching out before them like some immense field of rippling azure. It just left her mind coming back upon one single question…

Where the hell were they actually _going_?

Jack was last seen with that Aztec who made him vanish - had he killed the pirate, or simply taken him somewhere? It was a large world to track in six months for one man and no leads. They could go back to that voodoo lady in her shack but she doubted that she could ever find it from this unknown destination now. They could go looking to ask Davy Jones about it- he would help her if she was supposed to bring him to the wretch, but how would she contact _him_? She would have to be in serious danger, she supposed.

Her eyes shut for a moment of deeper contemplation: So was there no real way to find a lead? Logically, he had to be _Somewhere_; people didn't naturally disappear, but they didn't just become nothingness either, so someone had to be aware of his whereabouts; it was just finding the right person. Her eyes opened, nothing learned, and with a silent huff she stared back into the dead eyes of the leopard on her pistol. As the time wore on, the metal gradually becoming warmer in her hands, she got to the point of frustration where she needed distraction- she held it and aimed at random objects upon the ship several times to test her drawing speed and aim. At least he had been gracious enough to hand back all of her effects - backsword, pistol and satchel - but still no shot for her gun. It was an aggravating taunt, and she knew it, to have the weapon but no proper use for it. She needed shot and powder...

_Maybe that Will bloke's got some. Well, it couldn't hurt to actually talk to him either..._

She shoved the pistol roughly in her belt as she hopped back down from her perch to the deck, the motion causing her tatty sleeve to shift enough to, once again, painfully remind her of her unwanted, unfairly dealt occupation and the new danger she was in. Trying to banish the thoughts to the back of her mind, the young brown-haired pirate lady found Will and padded over to him, bearing the pleasant expression of one who is trying to get along with someone they didn't really know.

"So...any ideas? I don't have any..._logical_ ones for where to even begin lookin' or how to find him. Not to mention I have nothing left in my pistol." She paused for a second, let something tick by and then added brightly, "I don' suppose we've had the time to be properly introduced either. 'M Jade Starfall." She extended her right hand to shake, praying that the brand upon the same arm would neither be noticed nor remarked upon.

Will received the greeting and shook Jade's hand. "I shall say I'm pleased to meet you, Jade, even if it is under dangerous terms. I'm sure you've heard my name enough times now. I won't conceal that I find it a little suspicious for a young lady to travel about alone, particularly one so familiar with a pistol, but I've seen enough strange things now to not be so damning of appearances. The last time I saw Jack before I bumped into you both and that ... creature took him... he cried out 'Thirteen years!' and ran full pelt to the docks. Some eastern assassin seemed to be after him too, but I'm not sure he was entirely bothered by her. So it seems you must know more than me. When did you come across him? What did he mean by 'thirteen years', I wonder?"

She paid attention to Will unerringly, with an expression of amiable pleasantness upon her face and the slightly forced look of someone desperate to do so- not that she found the well-spoken man dull or his words disinteresting, but because she knew that she simply _couldn't afford_ to miss any information of his, and her mind had quite the tendency to wander when frustrated or anxious. Despite this, listening to the blacksmith talking was a pleasant distraction from the matter at hand, and she took in his questions before weighing up her answers. When she spoke, she replied slowly and carefully, as if wary of her own ability to relate information, and her eyes were narrowed a touch with concentration upon recollection-not her strongest point any longer.

"Well...I was asked t' find him - bring 'im to someone who wanted him dead, truthfully. Had no idea who the 'ell I was after, but I 'ad to as a means of bargain with Davy Jones." She didn't dwell long enough upon the name for any snort of derision or disbelief that may have come forth before continuing. "There was another Eastern girl there also, think she was an assassin-also wanted Jack dead for stealing something, far as I could tell." There came another pause, and then finally a more wan version of her smile replaced itself with a shake of the head. "I wasn't expectin' this when I came here, I can say- all I had t' do was sail with a good crew to the Caribbean, drop off some important documents to the Navy and then leave again."

She indicated the satchel back where it had been left near the wheel, with a jerk of the thumb.

"But after meeting the head of the operations here, I'm not even going to bother delivering 'em, whatever they are. _Anyway_, I met him at some voodoo lady's shack who-knows-where from here when she was in a trance an' he thought he could stay invisible be'ind some curtain or other. He seemed like any harmless fop-type; scoundrel idiot, drunk-sending him to Jones felt somewhat wrong, like he didn't really deserve it, so we ageed that I wouldn't take him back if he made sure I didn't get into physical harm from the monster. I also said if he got caught, I'd help him out- otherwise I'd have had nothing more to do with him.

"He was a whole lot of use: Next thing I knew, and I was cut up, dumped in a foreign town and branded f'r just _knowing_ the bugger. Few hours later and he was helping me to escape-where we met you an' that Lord." She had failed to mention anything about the tall dark-haired stranger whom she had now encountered twice and come off worse as many times from him, but that was purely for time and detail's sake-Will wanted to know about Jack, not how she'd gotten into the mess, so she got away with the bare minimum. She then shrugged. "No clue about the thirteen years, but it could have something to do with Jones or Beckett, I guess- he seemed to be panicking about one or the other all the time I saw him."

Turner paced the boards not far from the helm, racking his brains as to how to find the vanished pirate. _If only Mr Gibbs were here...maybe he'd know. Jack said the creature was an Aztec...I told it he was the King...maybe it went back to its people with him..._

_But that could be anywhere in the Caribbean!_

"Who is Davy Jones? I thought he was just a myth. What do you know about him? What would he want with Jack?" he couldn't help but blurt out eventually.

After several amusing seconds watching Turner pacing abut the deck like some maddened tiger, Jade gave another shrug and looked skywards, but finally relented to give her personal opinion. "Don't tell me you never even head the _stories_ of Davy Jones? Where I come from, he's considered to be both a tragic and feared myth-but now I know better about him being some strange tale or other. He's a monster- tentacled face, with a huge claw for a hand - looks like several sea creatures rolled into one with what might 'ave been a human, along with a very short temper and tendency to take enjoyment from discomfort. 'Parently the change in his looks happened after he cut out his heart from a betrayal or something, I don't really know much about that part...Either way, he sails a ship with a crew like himself, picking up dying souls at sea to offer them 100 years extension of their life as a member of his crew. Oh and he had a funny accent."

The pirate frowned for a moment before continuing this time at slower and more careful tone, uncertain of her own words.

"All I can guess is, like myself, Jack somehow got into trouble when at sea and Jones was near enough to catch him-whatever he did or stole or said must have some relevance now, because that demon was pretty pis -ahem-...angry, when I saw 'im last." Her bright gaze swept over the ship once more and the frown became more thoughtful for a fleeting second. "You know...Jones himself might know where Jack is; but unless your prepared to find a ship with dying sailors on it and wait, or sink this'n and pray he arrives before we drown, I don't think we stand much chance of simply 'encountering' him."

"Unfortunately for Jack, I don't very much care to find a pirate crew that we could set up and then scupper the ship. Besides we'd be on the ship too." Will sighed. "Well, it's an idea at least." He pondered some more. "I don't know any way of divining where ships may wreck either. This whole matter seems hopeless."

There was a sudden clunk as something wooden struck the side of the ship. Will broke from his thoughts and hurried to the rails. Upon looking down, he saw a splintered raft of dark wood on top of which was the unconscious form of a young woman.

"Jade, I need rope!"

_"This whole matter seems hopeless."_

There was no response from Jade as she stared agitatedly at the deck-boards between her feet, emerald eyes slitted against the glare of the Caribbean sunlight upon the azure waters. He was right, of course, but it didn't make for cheerful confirmation. She sighed and rubbed the back of her neck tiredly, weight shifting from foot to foot tirelessly in her frustration.

She was seconds away from yet another unusual and risky idea (involving, somewhere in the brainwaves, gunpowder, Beckett and yet another ship) when the soft thud of something below hitting the ship's hulk managed to jog her thoughts back to the present. Cocking her head on one side, the white haired pirate stared somewhat blankly into the middle distance as Will glanced over the side and then proceeded to yell at her.

_"Jade, I need rope!"_

It took several seconds to fully sink in before she snapped into life properly and she dutifully padded away.

"Oh? Right, comin' up..." It didn't actually take half as long as Jade thought to find and grab a suitable length of rope for the distance she estimated the blacksmith required, nearly tripping over a neatly coiled pile of the tough and weatherworn material halfway down the companionway on her way to the hold. Sprinting neatly back on deck, the rope around one shoulder, she crossed the deck swiftly and stood beside Will, only just then allowing her curiosity to win. She glanced over the side and her mollified expression became somewhat sour at the sight of the ragged body on the raft.

_Now where have I seen _this_ before?_

Her expression swiftly dissolved into a light frown as she held out the rope to Will with a slender hand.

"Need anything else, or any help?"

Will nodded. "If the other end isn't already secure, tie it to the mast or somewhere strong enough for me to climb back up." That said, he fastened the rope about his waist and dove over the rails and into the sea. He surfaced alongside the 'raft', frowned at its appearance, then reached out to touch the neck of the figure aboard.

"She's still alive!" he called up to Jade. Lifting the bedraggled lady across his shoulders, he made ready to clamber back onboard. As he did so, the piece of dark wood was suddenly consumed by the waves as though an enormous force had sucked it downwards. Will looked below him...but there was nothing to be seen...

Taking up the end of the rope still lying on the deck, Jade leant over the railings and silently kept an eye on the proceedings as she picked at the strands creating the thick, tarred mass. She had pretty much frayed the already scruffy top inch by the time she saw Will try to diagnose the limp form on the raft, and in response, Jade craned out further over the hulking ship.

_"She's still alive!"_

Jade gave a slight wave back to the blacksmith below in understanding and now anticipating his arrival, began to dutifully pad over the mainmast to secure the rope enough for him to climb.

She didn't get there.

The hairs on the back of her neck pricked with some dread sense only milliseconds before it registered to her that the rope was taught with the weight of the smith and the girl, but the sheer force felt rather unlike someone climbing-more like falling. For several moments, Jade pitched her weight forwards against the strain of the rope and for a few seconds held it somewhat still before the inevitable effects of shock and physics dragged her across the deck, to the railings. She crashed into them solidly with a distinct sound not unlike the yelling of 'woah!' as the wind was knocked from her, and instinctively she pulled backwards against the strain.

In a few more moments, Jade was balanced precariously with her stomach bruised against the railings and her booted feet hovering above the deck-boards-her arms were splayed back downwards, where they gripped onto the rope with a determination born from panic.

_What was that_...? Now would have been the ideal time for Jade to scream; alas Jade was not a screaming type of girl, and simply resorted to a muted whimper as she stared down at the abyss and two figures below. She opened her mouth to say something-to ask what to do, to suggest letting go of the rope, to simply ask what the hell was happening-but found herself unable to form words-she had no breath and was too shocked to speak anyway.

Tugging vainly against the rope and cringing in muted pain, Jade tried to reign the panic on her face as she felt herself moving again- very slowly-inexorably-over the railings...


	44. The Devil's Pact

**Chapter XLIV: The Devil's Pact**

A slimy, suckered hand gripped Jade's shoulder. With little effort, it yanked her back onto the deck, bringing the rope and its climbers with her. Davy Jones turned Jade to face his displeased self, his viscous tentacles cupping her chin to force her to look at him.

"Surprised tae see me, lass? It is my regret that ai did not ask yew your name when we last met, else ai might have been able to find ye sooner. Hwhat was it yew said tae me before?" He mimicked the girl's slang, "Yew'd have Sparra for me by _'noontime tomorrer'_?"

She was just about to place serious consideration into actually releasing the terrible counterbalance in her hands to increase her chances of survival when suddenly, unexpectedly, something took a rather solid hold of her shoulder and pulled her both easily and with little apparent effort backwards across the deck. Her grip upon the rope only increased as the damp sensation of whomever it was holding her seeped through her dress shirt and realization dawned. It also brought along with it the much needed memory of how desperate she really was to _avoid_ contact, and how stupid an idea it had been to want to see him again. The wrong wishes are always granted.

Without the option of resistance (nor the time), Jade found herself rather suddenly facing Jones and without the choice of looking away- she wouldn't have anyway- because by now she was frozen. She blinked once, once again, and made a small whimpering sound because, again, Jade was never the type to scream, even when faced with a demon such as Davy Jones. There came a very long, drawn-out pause from Jade as she tried to think of a simplified and swift answer to the mocking demands. Visibly flinching, the pirate girl opened her mouth twice, as if trying to say something, before she realised that she was still had a solid grip on the rope. She closed her eyes in thought for a moment, and considered trying to force Jones away, but the notion that he could very easily strangle her brought both eyes back open. They glittered with incredible, undisguised fear. This fear, after a few more moments, manifested itself into something far more creative-aggression.

And then she swore. Loudly.

Her posture, if at all possible, became more rigid than normal and her chin rose defiantly, brightening eyes shining with indignation as she stared directly and boldly right back at the monster. Though her tones were level, there was a modicum of restraint placed in it through both fear and hostility.

"Now just listen here! I said I would bring him back for you. In fact I could have. Easily, actually, if I could get him- what I didn't expect was t' get poisoned by a stranger, dragged off to some port, branded pirate for knowing Sparrow, an' forced by some wig-wearing maniac to look for the idiot under pain of death. This idiot who was vanished in a ball of flames by an Aztec to _Christ knows where_ in this STUPID BLOODY CARIBBEAN!" Glowering and snorting with anger now, Jade glared sparks at Jones, hardly conscious of her body quivering and that her knuckles had gone white holding the rope despite her outburst as her anger was spent. She was evidently still terrified.

Groaning from the impact of the deck as he'd slammed onto it and the dead weight of the young woman on top of him, Will looked up with bleary eyes at the scene. His hand tried to reach for his sword, but he had forgotten he had left it lying around somewhere before he'd made his dive.

"Davy Jones?" he managed, puzzled.

Not yet placing his attention on Turner nor the woman that was the cause of his appearance, Jones watched the impudent "pirate" girl with interest. Her temper was certainly amusing and yet slightly painful to him.

"Ai have little need for excuses, miss. Lucky fer yew that we did not bind our contract. Not that I could, since ye were not in mortal danger. However, afore ye start conjurin' up some lies that'd put ye in trouble, ai know that ye have failed me. Jack Sparrow is _dead_!"

This newest and most important piece of information related by Jones was received with a very soundless and very startled 'oh' by Jade. Her eyebrows furrowed in calculating thought whilst simultaneously any aggression in her posture was lost through overwhelming defeat. Her heart fell to hear that the pirate had been killed, but it did not break: the only two things causing her any grief were the sense of honour regarding the pact they had made and that he had indeed saved her (albeit from one Hell to the next), and that it was all on his existence that her own survival rested on. Without his compass, she was as good as dead in six months. Her emerald eyes clouded for a second in slight pain from this revelation for several moments. They refocused more clearly back at Jones accompanied by a sigh and blank face.

"Is there any way to... _do_ anything? Bring him back or _something_?" She forcibly wrenched a frozen hand from the rope she was holding to tap Jones's wrist lightly, her expression somewhat anxious now as she began to feel rather less than safe in the creature's grasp. "Oh, and 'y can, er, let go of me now; I'm not goin' anywhere."

Jones snorted irritably and released her. "Most often it is impossible tae bring back what has been taken frrom this world, especially when it relates tae the foul deeds of men. However, where _Jack_ has gone...there is a way...a difficult way, mind, tae retrieve him. Once it was ai knew the way, for ai nigh-on created the place ai am sure ye have heard told as Davy Jones' Locker. Ai would drag the wretch back tae me in an instant, were it not for a few minor setbacks. Ai cannot set foot on land again foor several years, and in a land of a sort he rresides. Secondly, the key tae finding the way there may only be found upon a map. This map once was given tae me, but in time ai found little use for it. Hwhat would ai want with the things I damn tae the depths? Ai bargained it away in return for a grreat favour.

"This map is the only way tae reclaim Jack Sparrow, and tae find it ye must seek out the Nine."

Once Jones had finally let go of her, Jade dedicated the next few moments of her time to dutifully scrubbing at her now rather slime-coated jaw with her right sleeve; her bright green eyes never once left the speaker as he related the important information, and once he finished a settled air seemed to bestill her frantic actions. She pouted slightly as some mental debate raged on inside about the ethical ramifications of her actions, followed by a frown, wince, and finally wide-eyed horror. It felt like it was going to be an awful lot of work for one pirate - one awful lot of work for what was to become a very twisted and confusing web of deceit. It was comply or death, simply put. She made a slight inclination of the head in her thoughtful silence before finally speaking again, flatly and gravely.

"All right. I'll go look for these Nine you speak of, find their map an' go get Sparrow. Once I've done that, you can have 'im and I get to go free. All square?" She would have dearly loved to give Will a side glance and explain what ideas she had, but there was no opportunity to look away as it was. "So can you give me any directions or hints as to where these Nine are?"

"When ai first speak of the Nine, I speak of nine men holding the same number of trinkets referred to as _pieces of eight_. When ai met these men, it was a time long ago when gods and goddesses roamed the land and sea. Of course, they are long dead by now, but their descendants live on. Ai know not who holds the Nine now, but ai do know that at least one may be found in these waters..." The tentacled fiend closed his eyes, concentrating his senses upon the waters he loved and hated at the same time. "It is aboarrd an Eastern ship crrewed by two women. They have recently sailed from Singapore, but that is all ai can determine." He opened his eyes once again and gave Jade a shrewd stare. "Of course yew may consider yourself free of my attentions once yew have brought me Sparrow. Yew and your ... companion..." he sneered at Will, "may take your leave. However, _she_ stays with me." He pointed his crab claws at the still form of the near-drowned woman.

Jade listened to the vague and yet vital information with a sinking heart. So, in order to find the Nine, she had to find the nearest one who could be anywhere in the Caribbean, get them to work with the others if they didn't have the map (which could take months) and _then_ force herself to journey into the Locker and try to steal a compass off of a man who would most likely never take his eyes off the bloody thing. THEN she had the infernal task of handing it over to Beckett, and what about the fact that there was only one release paper? Could she really let Will die for her sake if she got the compass?

Well she would have to cross that bridge when she came to it. Her expression resolute once more, she waited for Jones to finish - and he dropped the final bombshell with quite an impressive effect. She listened to Jones' terms stoically, and turned her face to stare at the motionless form of Kestrel with equal dispassion. She recalled for a fleeting instant her own indignation and panic at the dead-end situation that had faced her, and indeed she would too.

Unable to prevent her true character from taking hold, a flash of sympathetic panic flitted through Jade's eyes and she shook her head. She didn't want her to go through the same experience without any leverage and stuck on the monster's ship. Here she had to make a careful decision on what to say and thus every word was carefully spoken, as if she didn't even trust herself totally to explain. Trying to keep her expression calmed lest Jones pick up on her altruism and exploit it, or that he might try and kill her for her words, she frowned.

"No. She comes with us, and you get Jack or no deal. Once you get him, she can decide and talk for herself as to whatever you want with her. If you want to keep someone on your ship as a good-faith act, you'll have to choose someone who's both conscious and assenting." In short it was Will or her if he wanted to keep someone behind, and there was no other choice.

_Unless...it defeats the object of my entire work, but..._

Furrowing her pale eyebrows, Jade sighed. "Unless you can send, say, my soul t' the same Locker as Jack, an' my dear ol' friend there can come get me an' him - gives someone like, say, me the chance to make sure he won't be runnin' too far when he's back here an' you can get 'im." _An' the chance to get that compass of his_… "'Course I don't even have a _clue_ about how that would all work what with the Locker an' souls an' the like...is it possible?"

Jones raised a hairless eyebrow. This girl was practically offering to die to bring him what he wanted, which impressed him. On the other hand, he was agitated. He wanted the unconscious girl to wake so that he could question her as to how she had the Black Spot when he had no recollection of giving it to her. Therefore he was reluctant to give her up.

"Unfortunately the Locker is designed so that each soul suffers an individual and isolated torment," he said, with very little indication he really thought it unfortunate. "However, should one have an artifact that leads yew tae...whereever yew want tae go... yew might just find the way tae another soul. The firrst problem, should ye wish tae send yourself tae the Locker, would be that only Jack has an item of this particular nature. He would have tae _want_ tae find ye.

"Secondly, for me tae make things so much easier for yew, particularly in being generous with regards to this gerrul...ai would have tae make this a binding contract.

"And finally, tae get tae the Locker without the map, ye would have tae get in the same way as Sparrow did."

Davy Jones paused a moment to allow his tentacles to bring out a pipe from the depths of his writhing beard. Another set of tentacles handled a matchbox and extracted a stick from within.

"So, really when it gets daown tae it, lass..." He lit the pipe. "Do yew fear death?"

Yet again, Jade's face contorted lightly in a frown as she mulled over the first of the questions with a sinking feeling - how in Hell would the pirate even be _aware_ of her trying to find him, let alone enough to want here there? Her frown turned to aggravation as she listened further.

_"Secondly, for me tae make things so much easier for yew, particularly in being generous with regards to this gerrul...ai would have tae make this a binding contract."_

Well there was little to respond to in that area that wouldn't earn her a death warrant- whatever his contract would be, so long as it involved handing Jack over, would be broken due to the terms of their own previous contract. She'd need to dig herself another grave and yet a third contract to get her out of whichever one Jones would set, probably with the pirate. Already she began to think about this. Outwardly, she simply bobbed her head and glanced across the deck to the limp figure of Kestrel before muttering something incomprehensible and turning back for the final reason.

_"And finally, tae get tae the Locker without the map, ye would have tae get in the same way as Sparrow did."_

She paused. Not out of shock, because truth to tell she was quite aware that that might be the only possible option, but out of personal dilemma. Was she prepared to get herself killed in order to be brought back to life to further _avoid_ death? It was pointless. Then again, it would be far easier to wake up in someone else's living Hell, to all intents and purposes 'alive', and be brought back then to endure a prolonged torture at the gallows back in Port Royal with no assurance of an afterlife. The young pirate frowned at the pipe lit in front of her, then coughed lightly as she inhaled smoke and blinked up at the monster of the seas.

_"Do yew fear death?"_

The coughing stopped with an abrupt choke of silence. The panic now numbing her should-be-terrified body, Jade stared once more to Kestrel and narrowed her eyes. She thought. A few seconds later she glanced up to Will, gave him a small, sad smile, and shrugged, mouthing a distinct 'watch 'er' before turning back to Jones.

"All depends on the circumstances, Jones. Right now, I'd rather fear what the living world has t' throw at me." She tried to stop her eyes glancing back to her branded wrist, and took a deep breath. The fear that shimmered in her eyes took on a more defensive appearance. "So really, if it means I don' end up hanged or with my insides out, then I don't 'fear' death. Not from you, leastways, an' especially if there's somethin' on the other side t' rely on."

Jones gave a smirk as he puffed on the pipe. "So be it. The lad and the other gerrul will come aboard my ship wi' me, and ai shall give ye a few moments tae get your vessel a suitable distance away so ye can prepare for the journey. Are we agreed?" He held out his slimy, writhing palm.

Will finally found his voice and staggered to his feet. "Wait! Jade! I don't trust him," he cried. "Jack's _dead_? In the _Locker_? How?" He glared at Jones. "What was so important that Jack would bargain with you? What were the terms?"

His hand still outstretched towards Jade, Jones sneered at the young upstart of a man. "My contracts are not tae be discussed. My terrms are almost always the same...in exchange foor something that someone desires ai demand one hundred years of serrvitude aboard my ship once the limit of time is over. Jack Sparrow failed to meet with his side of the bargain and met his deserved fate." He forced a chuckle, despite the rage he felt for not getting to the pirate in time.

A twitch had begun to develop in Jade's right eye as Will interrupted negotiations and began to interrogate Jones. Her hand, just on the verge of rising, curled into a fist -he had a point. Then again, so did Jones and his response was valid enough. Tilting her head to the young blacksmith, Jade gave him a hollow smile that was supposed to resemble comfort.

"Don't worry mate, I'll be fine - you jus' make sure you can find a way to get me _back_ at some point, else both me an' Sparrow'll be going crazy. We don't have a choice - if no one gets him, we're both dead. 'Sides…" Her eyes hardened for a brief moment. "If I don' come back, maybe you can make some sort of plea to Beckett - won't have a pirate tarnishin' your chances. Only one of us can go back in safety, anyway, so it don't matter if I don't come back, eh?"

The humourless smile gone, she turned back to Jones and paused for a split second- her fear, now the pace of negotiations had been broken, was starting to seep back into her, and if she didn't move soon, then she'd refuse the deal. The foreign sensation of cold air on her fist reminded her sharply that the pirate still owed her own piece of jewellery. _That bloody thief_. She growled.

And before anyone else could say another word, Jade's hand shot up and smoothly grabbed Jones'.

"So...What am I supposed t' do again _exactly_?"

Jones's grip tightened on Jade's hand. Something sharp dug into the flesh of her palm and a black substance flooded in. He watched her wince in pain and burst out laughing. As the sound of his mirth echoed across the waves, the vast form of the_ Flying Dutchman _exploded out of the depths to draw alongside the ship they occupied. A mob of ugly, barnacled crewmen melted onto the decks and seized Turner and the unconscious Kestrel. Lifting them over their heads, they hurled the captives over onto their gargantuan ship.

"Yew don't have tae do a thing, lass. Leave it all tae me," Davy Jones sniggered, releasing Jade with an unnecessary violence. "If ye find Sparra, send him my regards." The captain of the _Dutchman_ stomped back across the deck and crossed like a shadow through the rails of the smaller vessel, reappearing on the deck of his own. He looked down, smiling cruelly at the small figure left alone upon her ship. "At your stations, men. We prepare tae wake the Kraken once more!"

Jade couldn't help but flinch visibly when something sharp and undeniably inhuman scarred her hand. As the expression of startled shock flickered over her face, the monster seemed only to laugh- that cruel mocking laugh only those who _enjoy_ the suffering of others- and she whimpered. Her eyes glazed briefly in defeat and her mind slowly began to drift from the now: so what had she done, what had Jones just done to her, what was she going to do when at the Locker, and most importantly how on earth would she accomplish all this? It was a big task for someone like her...

When the immense bulk of the _Dutchman_ broke the surface of the placid waves in an explosion of noise and water, she couldn't resist a jolt of panic as her eyes refocused and the laughing died down. Jones was talking. _"Yew don't have tae do a thing, lass. Leave it all tae me,"_ He broke the handshake with a force that confused Jade before he made to leave, _"If ye find Sparra, send him my regards." _And then he left. Well, he melted through the railings of the ship in a manner that she found completely disturbing and left her blinking. Hurriedly, she called out one more time.

"An' don't you do harm to 'em or the deal's off, Jones!"

But then they were gone - crew, captain and friends, leaving her stood alone on the deck of the little ship. Slowly and meticulously, the young pirate fell to rubbing at her sore hand, a scowl on her face as she sourly glared up at the immense ship and muttered beneath her breath with solemn hatred tempered by fear.

"Oh aye, I'll 'send your regards' Jones, because I'm such an obedient servant to your every order, ain't I? Bugger _your_ terms, Jones - I'm finding a way out of 'em."

Several seconds later, and the young girl realised that in fact she was talking to thin air, and that perhaps it was useless to be doing so. After shifting on her booted feet and rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly in the deathly silence, it finally dawned on her that she should probably make sure she had all her possessions, just in case, you know, they went with you...

It took less time than she anticipated to gather her belongings suitably - she retrieved her leopard-head flintlock from where it had fallen on the deck, and crossing over to the crate near the wheel she had been sitting upon, managed to retrieve her backsword. Her weaponry now suitably ensconced at her waist, she made to turn and leave when the unobtrusive, damp and forlorn looking satchel caught her attention as it lay at the base of the crate. She gave the tan mass a venomous glare and made to kick it over the railings- it had been the cause of this whole mess; the fact that she had been meant to deliver the papers within to the Navy made the sting even worse. She prodded the limp bag gently with her foot and listened to the dry rustle of its contents. A pause punctuated the debate she had upon taking it and without another word she walked away.

Five minutes later and Jade was sat cross-legged on the middle of the deck, resting her chin upon the satchel grumpily. Bright eyes, alight with suspicion and terror, flicked hither and yon restlessly beneath hooded lids as she waited...And waited. The interminable silence broken only by the natural sound of the ocean served only to amplify the tension, and fairly soon she was muttering again, miserably and with her face turned to the _Dutchman._

"I'm not bloody well _waitin_' to die, Jones..."

_Jack had better appreciate this._


	45. Sacrifice

**Chapter XLV: Sacrifice**

An eerie boom sounded through the ocean's depths, blasted from beneath the hull of the _Flying Dutchman_. Far below, leagues away, the Kraken opened a sleepy eye. It was lethargic from its last meal. Granted its meals miraculously appeared "unscathed" in the prison that was known as the Locker, but it still consumed the essence of what had been there. The loud echoes harassed its brain and caused it to thrash with anger. With a great roar, it shot from its resting place and bolted for the place of the call.

The depressive silence finally descended upon the deck of the little ship like a lead weight. With only the sounds of the waves to distract from the impending doom, Jade began to slowly feel more and more anxious. Lowering her head slightly, the oblivious and frightened young pirate gripped her satchel all the harder, trying to steady her breathing and master the hammering of her heart as, with an icy inrush, she began to finally accept the reality: she _did_ fear death.

Her only solace being in the simple assurance of a demon of the oceans, and her only drive now being the threat of worse torment, there seemed little else to do but to wait...and wait...what was supposed to be happening? She hadn't got a clue how she was supposed to end up in the Locker except to be killed- wasn't Jones supposed to just shoot her or stab her or... or something? Surely that was how the whole 'death' thing worked, yes? So why, then, wasn't he coming? This dread sense of the unexpected added another dimension to her paranoia, and subconsciously she mumbled the question aloud.

"So how _did_ Jack die, then...?"

The answer came in the form of a low, ominous thump on the hull of the little ship that set it gently rocking. Eyes turning to slits, her nails dug further into the satchel. The thump came again, stronger. Waves began to lap more powerfully around the sleek little vessel and slapped against the wood-it had been stirred by something unnaturally huge. She whimpered. The third time came, and finally she felt the compulsion to get to her feet - if shakily. Holding the satchel to her chest like a child does with their teddy, she cautiously approached the railings before her and chanced to glance over, frowning at the now boiling waters. There didn't _look_ to be anything visible beneath the waves-partially because of the broiling white wave-caps obscuring her view...and then something stirred, something green and scaly. Her pale eyebrows furrowed slightly as she tried to figure if there was actually something there or just her imagination.

Something broke the surface of the waves about two feet away from the railings and shot out with blinding speed that Jade couldn't track several inches from her body and across the deck, grabbing onto a crate beside her and, before it could be registered, recoiled into the thrashing depths in a cascade of water, drenching the confused lone passenger. A near miss. Jade balked, dripping saltwater, and carefully pawed at her eyes before she finally began to panic - not the numbed panic she had felt earlier, but the raw and intense fear that could only be brought about by the chance of immediate death.

Clinging to her soaked satchel desperately now, Jade began to back-pedal furiously from the railings, staring at the frothing waters intently in her panic - unaware of the danger behind. Before she was even aware of anything else, an unimaginably powerful appendage wrapped itself about her waist, and dragged her backwards at terrifying speed across the deck. Without time to cry out or respond, it was mere seconds before she was inexorably pulled through the smashed railings and beneath the waves, leaving nothing but several ripples and a slender swirl of blood on the surface of the azure waves to tell of her prior existence. She had time enough to stare at one immense amber eye glowing cruelly at her through the dark waters before she too, ceased to be for a tiny fraction of an instant.

*********************************************************

Freeta tossed a purse from hand to hand. Her opponent lay slumped across the table, ale dribbling from his unconscious lips. A margin below sober, she glared at the rest of the revellers.

"I'd offer another challenge, but I think it's time my crew got back where the high life is. Keep an eye on your gold, gentlemen."

She stalked out of the tavern without so much as a wobbling step.

Soon, the _SprayScourge_ sped out of Tortuga, its sails catching a south-easterly wind. Her crew quailed under the barking orders of Shade Freeta. Now that she was partially drunk, she was even more perilous. Freeta's darting, maddened gaze settled upon a lone trading vessel, presumably skirting the Hispanic waters in search of Santo Domingo. Its crew scurried like mice, having seen her ship bearing down on them.

"Bring up the colours, men," their captain snarled from the bow. "Ready the grapples and prepare to board!"

*************************************************************

The cloaked figure of Tia Dalma had found the pitiful form of the old canoe - the _Tlechlot O Ytychoel_. She sat upon the riverbank weaving strong roots into the small hole, whispering strange syllables to the rippling river. As she worked her wonders, an old song escaped her lips. A song that always played in her mind and in her heart. A song of which only two people knew the words.

***************************************************************

A very familiar eeriness flowed through the ship, Surreal was unsure as to its origin, but she had recognised it as a part of her flashbacks. She had felt cold, even dead. The next thing she knew she was sat on a heap in the floor. As soon as it seemed to affect her the eeriness disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.

_What the?! _

As soon as Surreal managed to get to her feet, a member of the crew ran into her cabin.

"Capt'n…" He rushed as he tried to get his breath back. "Tam…."

"Tah zigh nah-urr?" she asked urgently. _Where is she?_

_If this had affected me, it must have certainly affected her as she had more heightened senses than I have._

"H-h-helm…." he managed to stutter out.

Surreal didn't pause to thank him as she rushed out to where Tam lay.

"Tam!" she said rather loudly. She gave the girl a rough shake, but as this didn't seem to wake her, Surreal decided on more drastic action. "Shway!" she yelled at the crew. After a few had run off Surreal looked down at Tam. _Water!_

"Capt'n." A member of the crew handed Surreal a bucket of water, which she then threw over the woman.

"Tam!" she said once more as she started to come around.

The darkness was actually quite a welcome relief to Tam after the pain of such an awful noise and the rushing sensations that afflicted her body. She stood, leaning her full weight against the ship's wheel column, booted feet slowly but surely sliding inch by inch with the resisting forces and smooth deck....

Of course, she was not aware of her physical state. She was in darkness, silence, and it was awfully pleasant, to be true. Here she could organize her thoughts, keep safe from the outside dangers and begin to regenerate some much-needed mental sanity or physical energy. No bad sounds...no awful memories...it felt good to feel completely at rest -

_Whoosh-_

_"Tam!"_

"Whazzat?"

Tam woke with a yowl of dismay as a bucket full of the coldest saltwater crashed unmercifully upon her, soaking her from head to tail in one effective movement. A sharp intake of breath at the shock of it all caused the poor, drenched Tam to inhale the saltwater, which in turn set her coughing. And not your average little ahemming into some kerchief either; a full-bodied hacking spasm doubled her over, whereupon she exclaimed further at the state of her waterlogged tail which twitched spasmodically on the deck like a lump of wet cord, and her clothing, which was now plastered quite effectively to her already skinny frame.

It took several moments of blinking before the memories clicked into place and realization settled that she must have fallen unconscious with the noise…the noise that was still there, just at a more bearable volume, to which she frowned. Tam spent a few minuets pawing her now limp dark hair away from clinging against her face before shaking roughly, showering those around her with the water as she attempted to remain some modicum of dignity before the grinning men, and flicked her tail to Surreal in a graceful arc of water...

And oh dear, it went _in front_ of the tail too...oops. Tam simply offered a shrug in explanation.

"Give me a moment, Miz, and I'll be with you..."

She grabbed out for the first smirking face within arm's reach and pulled him towards her, giving quiet instruction to the sailing of the vessel before motioning that she would follow the assassin and laving a rather nervous sailor in her wake as she stepped into the cabin, forgetting she was soaked long enough not to really care any more. She also went with the decision of not offering an explanation unless actually being asked by Surreal. She followed and went behind the assassin with an empty gaze speaking mistrust and anxiety, but when she finally entered the cabin, a look of causality flowed across her countenance. Now she waited for the other woman to start off the conversation as she stood idly, tail twitching and examining her hands with mild interest....

_I wonder if they can get molten metal prepared on this ship..._

Surreal muttered a few phases in Chinese, which the crew decided not to translate, as she followed Tam into her cabin. _What's got her tail in a knot? _As she entered the cabin Surreal made her way past Tam. She noticed how Tam stood and her expression, as this would give Surreal a small understanding of her.

"Well then Tam.... what happened?" she asked softly. Unsure as to whether her question would get the right kind of answer she quickly added, "What made you faint?"

At the question, Tam broke off the wordless inspection of her nails long enough to give Surreal a blank animal stare, then raised an eyebrow and went back to her thoughts. It wasn't that she appeared to be ignoring the request, she was _considering_ the answer. Her wet tail flicked lazily a few times as she turned this question over in her mind over and over, the quiet, shrill screams still existing as she strove to ignore them by suppressing sense with thoughts and more powerful sensations-such as why she began to hum, when a slight realization came to her that the borders between herself and the tiger demon...spirit… that should be laying dormant within her had grown fuzzier since the noise began...and the creature wasn't so dormant - it was becoming a part of her as much as she was of it.

Eventually, she decided to give the assassin the full benefit of her wild stare and locked it onto the other lady's eyes-this time, they didn't break away or move, they remained fixed on a point of light in Surreal's pupils and stayed there, unblinking.

"How about you tell me what we're dealing with on this voyage?"

The question itself threw Surreal off balance, but enough for her to stop staring at Tam. She was unnerved by the way Tam looked at her, as it was a look she had seen so many times. "Well now...." Surreal paused contemplating the answer to a question she had no idea how to answer. "The only thing I can tell you is that it is a very dark, ancient power... Where this power lies I am unsure of, what lies ahead I am also unsure of. All I know for certain is that I alone will face this when we reach the island... as this ancient power is a part of _my_ past." As she stopped talking, she finally broke eye contact with Tam and she went over to where the map lay.

"Now will you answer what I have asked?"


	46. Share With Me

**Chapter XLVI: Share With Me**

"Ah."

On the outside, it might not have appeared that Surreal may have spoken much, but to Tam, it was as if light had been shed upon some small compartment of her brain and lit something else up. This in turn set the wheels in motion within herself, and the smile that had been erased from her face dwindled back slowly.

But not a friendly smile. This was all business.

A few easy strides sufficed to close the gap between the two occupants of the cabin, and she gave the unusual map a blank stare. It hadn't been altered back...perhaps now was a good time. Wordlessly, she placed two fingers on one of the outermost rings.

_Turn your sail towards home_

She turned the next rings stoically.

_Release the darkness_

A slight pause, Tam traced a few words quietly, then offered Surreal the smallest of rueful smiles before talking. "If you are planning on later fighting a dark power, take caution. It rarely ever works, and if you do not know what or how to beat it, because oftenmost they are unaffected by things as material and weapons, you will be killed, an' believe me, death is no end or rest." She glanced to the floor for a moment, then stared back up, forcing her gaze so it could lock again, and the smile faded. "But I will help. I won't fight it if it should come to that - I might not be able to face it, but hear this: I know some things that are best left unexplained about certain entities yet. If I can be of any assistance to you in any way, I will lend you whatever skills or knowledge you want."

She glanced to the maps once more, frowning at the words before she looked back up and locked eyes with Surreal. It was clear that it was not an appreciated gesture, but it was the only way Tam found herself able to concentrate right now, what with so mush inner turmoil and the noises distracting her as it was. Her long tail flicked again, and she still felt sick from earlier.

"This ancient power...it knows demon- sorry, spirits. I-...they...aren't very well accepted by some of the other spirits- we-_ they_ each have their own 'territories' or boundaries as to where they hold a lot of power. Typically those under their influence can move freely in this, but one spirit does not normally trespass onto another's, so I'd guess there must be a spirit about somewhere, breaking it's laws."

_Nice save._

_- Thanks._

"This one isn't a well, or kind, or happy, or friendly spirit, and my hearing can detect sounds it emits. These are...horrible. Screams, high pitched screams and so forth, and they get louder....really loud, it's too hard to describe the sound. Unless you'd like to see the world through my eyes for a few moments, I can't even show you the background of it that is going on right now. It was so loud it hurt. And whatever that thing was, it managed to send pictures. It can replay memories of events or show you things you don't even know, well at least I didn't. It, and the sound, wasn't pleasant, and it cut off my link to consciousness." Here Tam blinked and finally lowered her gaze before shrugging almost casually.  
"That is, of course, unless you would like to see and hear it all for yourself by going back a few metres in the seas and seeing the world with a different perspective..."

_I…we? What does she know about this that she's not saying?_ Surreal paused her train of thought and concentrated on Tam's offer. "You can do this?" she asked, rather confused. "I understand that you wish to help, but the island where we are heading is actually where I am originally from. I escaped once, I can do it again." Though a part of her was not too sure about this last statement, as she didn't know if she escaped or was sent away. "If you can show me these images, will it harm you?" she asked, as she struggled to keep a hold of her excitement, an excitement about being able to see if these images are anything like what she had seen herself in her flashbacks.

'_You can do this?'_

Tam simply nodded ever so slightly in response to the incredulous question that was asked. It wasn't easy, and heck, she couldn't do it, but the spirit...thing...tiger… inside her did it often enough with all its different things...

The amber gaze shifted slightly as the young lady started to turn for the door as Surreal went on. _'I understand that you wish to help, but the island where we are heading is actually where I am originally from. I escaped once, I can do it again.' _Not easily if what I think is there is there...

Despite her misgivings about the bold statement, Tam just nodded weakly again and rested a hand on the door-handle, twisting it sharply and flicking her tail as she headed out to the deck again with the assassin.

_'If you can show me these images will it harm you?'_

There was a pause with Tam halfway upon the stairs to the ship's wheel. She halted, one hand on the banister rail, and sighed. "The idea is that you...you see my world for a period of time. This will include sights, sensations, hearing. It will feel unusual to you, the heightening in senses, so you might be sick after...consider it like watching my life and feeling it, but not having control. You will see how I do, feel my movements, but have no influence. Your thoughts, though, would be how we can communicate if there is an issue. We need to go back to where that sound was most painful, so yes, it will only hurt as much as it did last time, but the actual process should be simple enough. You'll be back to normal by the time I begin to let go of consciousness, but I'll be prepared this time and we won't go as far.

"If you're prepared to do this, get the ship to take a tight arc, skim back and come around again."

Here Tam finally went to the wheel and stood close by the steersman, tail wavering with erratic jerks as she considered what she was about to do.

_-Is it really going to be simple?_

_It is difficult, actually, for me, but I know the processes. I brought you back to life, and it altered your physical appearance._

_-Yes. It. Did._

_No need to snap..._

_-And how will she feel about knowing I'm colour-blind too?_

_Well, that's the price you pay for living like this, or not at all._

_-I'll see the same images?_

_Most likely, I don't know- don't even know what this power is. It's just...strong._

_-If so, she'll know how I got killed though!_

_She'd be more interested in the island._

_- Hope so..._

Surreal considered what she was about to do. _Will being able to see the island be a good idea? Yes… it's better to know your adversary, I just hope Tam can pull this off. _"Turn her about!" she ordered her crew. "All right, Tam, what am I required to do?" she asked, as she watched the crew rushing about to carry out her orders.

It wasn't that Tam was ignoring Surreal - no, the younger lady was far more intent on other matters at hand rather then giving the assassin instructions just yet. Crazy, unnatural eyes remained fixed upon some point on the far horizon for some time, gauging the waters with a kind of fierce scrutiny before she spoke, tail waving slightly with the nervous tension.

"Nothing.....just…stay where you are. Do not move."

The noise that was so awful was beginning to grow louder again, and it showed by the flinches on Tam's face over time as it progressed steadily into a higher, louder note. Not its worst yet...

She blinked hazily, swaying lightly on her feet before giving a rough shake to alleviate some pain from the noise. Eventually, she seemed to reach a mental line in deciding where it was safest to continue, and yelled out a further order to the confused crew.

"Take us another minute or so in this direction, then take a sharp curve back 'round and out again the way we came!" Turning to Surreal instead, Tam tilted her head lightly and grinned. "An' now I think you can try and see what all the fuss is about." Without pre-empt or consideration, the unusual person shot out one hand and grabbed Surreal's wrist, the other gripped her opposite shoulder and the claw-like nails dug in. Tam gave a vague growl, and some surge of energy seemed to rip through her muscles, away, and after a second, it flowed back again, leaving not only an unconscious-looking assassin in her grip, but taking with it something far more important than any mortal body, the silly physical vessel for the soul.

It took a few moments for Tam to readjust to a third voice inside her head - it had taken her nearly a year to be accustomed to the spirit. Thankfully, having an actual human's _soul_ was far simpler - the structuring to the processes, thoughts and abilities was a lot less alien, far more basic, and it wasn't trying to take over your body just yet. Nice…

She blinked and gave another violent shake of the head before everything clicked into focus, and it was now that Tam's true nature of sight became revealed: most browns and shades of green or red were muted tones, various shades, of soft greys, and any purples or oranges were a dingy grey-yellow. Any other colours were a faded reminiscence of themselves, and the only colours to truly remain the same to a human colour-scheme were the blacks and whites. The eyes turned o the seas, a sickly yellowed blue-black hue, and watched it, but the detail was fantastic. She gave a small smile, and then began to take a fresher interest in the noise. The screams finally filtered through as it began to get louder again. Glancing back to the body of Surreal as its soul registered some surprise, Tam snickered before carefully setting it down.

_-An' that's what you look like to me. Interesting, isn't it?_

_Bet you didn't expect the colours to be-_

_-Shush._

_Why? Surreal, you might find it interesting to know it was ME you really first met and saw fighting that slaver at Feng's._

Here she sensed confusion, and hurriedly attempted to quell them before they could get onto more important matters before the pictures came back.

_-Oh, this is...me. Only...._

_Not you._

_-Yes. I'll explain later, but try and listen for a bit and pretend the dem-_

_I.  
-...I don't exist. Just relax and watch, listen. You'll share the experiences of pain and sight. If you have an emergency or a question, think or try to talk like your screaming- it usually works. _

The noise grew in pitch and intensity once more, but this time, it was getting painful. Swaying again, Tam gripped the wooden railings with a clenching hand and took several deep breaths as her ears felt like bleeding. So painful, and the noise so pitiful, so sad, like the screams of murdered souls...it wasn't pleasant. Pupils dilating with the intensity and pain whenever she looked about, Tam found herself starting to lose her focus on the reality as the pictures started up again in similar order, feeling as if something so intelligent or foreign as to be totally incomprehensible was forcing them to be seen.

_Darkness, sinister and cold darkness. Red eyes...demon. Her demon. Was a demon. Back to temple walls, growling, claw gouges over stone.  
Her own blood. Death. Nasty business, dying. No reprieve from worldly pains, no actual rest or end. And it hurt._

She breathed again and tried to focus more on skimming these images, forcing herself past them as bluntly as possible in search of those more pertinent to Surreal.

_Run through. Of all things, someone like her, killed by the Navy. The man kicked her, smiled, watched her die. Twitching, bleeding, pain. Animalistic and totally inescapable. All he did was snigger softly._

Physically, the wrench of the injury flooded back, filled her body and mind with the burst of fiery pain too powerful to ignore or describe. Her eyelids flickered briefly, unseeing the world around, her, before with a growl she froze, closed both eyes and braved it as best she could. Her body was twitching and thrashing underneath the control her mind gave it, but it stood still through sheer willpower. Her grip increased on the railings. The island image flashed up in the stream of pictures, and she held onto it doggedly, for Surreal's sake, waiting for some confirmation or recognition so she could let it go. Once done, she could force herself to restore Surreal back to her body and then, blessed sweet God, she could _go to bed._ For now, however, she waited, shaking lightly as she kept the mental image against the barrage of others and the noise of the screams.

The heightened senses confused and enlightened Surreal. The noise was unbearable put pure willpower to see what haunted her life kept her from mentally crying out. The flashes of Tam's memories and her demons filled Surreal's mind. Through the blur of them one image was very clear. The image of her death. Surreal watched this memory with a burning hatred.

_Is this hatred mine or hers? Run through. What a way to die._

Again the images swirled around, Surreal felt like she was inside a whirlpool sinking deeper and deeper. Then the island appeared to her at last. She struggled to hold the image- luckily Tam or her demon was holding it for her. She concentrated on the temple on the right side of the island. The building its self looked dated. The sculptures however were nothing of this world. They showed creatures you would never imagine even in you worst nightmare. Their eyes glowed a blood red, though only a fool would believe it was because of the gems there. Surreal saw the island now as she had seen it in her dreams. A dead place with something sinister living there. She tried to concentrate on her parents, but every time she got close to an image she came back to one statue in the temple, the largest of them all. It looked like a large cat with wings. A name pulled at her.....

Then as soon as it had been; this intense pain and floods of pictures that stifled the mind and all processes with it...went.

Just. Like. That.

Tam had tried to hold onto the pictures as long as possible, yet for fear of blacking out again and losing both her and Surreal's consciousness', she had to let them slip and fade. She could feel herself, the assassin too, trying to keep a hold, but it was like fine sand or water- the pictures were whipped away with unstoppable surety, slipping through their fingers, and it left in it's wake the noise- quieter, now it was again a background noise- this she would have to put up with until they passed this way again. Give it a few hours and she would get _grumpy_.  
With a wrench both physical and mental, Tam snapped open her unusual eyes and grimaced as a sick feeling of dizziness swept over her body- the sensation left her light headed, and dark splotches were still fogging her handicapped vision, but she staggered over to Surreal's limp body and grabbed it, standing upright again as she repeated the same process backwards- allowing the rush of energy containing the assassin's consciousness to flow out and crackle away down into the waves, to be spent elsewhere no doubt.

Once certain the transaction had been a safe one, Tam turned her back on the older lady and gave a violent twitch of her tail before stalking away, her voice hardly a growl as she choked out tired words from clenched teeth.

"I'm going to sleep. Wake me if you need me." As she padded away down from the quarterdeck, the strange combined spirit girl flexed her hands and gave a small sigh as she felt something internally twist and rip-her fingertips tingled vaguely. All she could think to ask...

_When did this get so hard?_


	47. Now Where Did I Put Me?

**Chapter XLVII: Now Where Did I Put…Me?**

A faint breeze rippled across the still desert sands.

It was hardly a breeze, really - more or less a small concentrated gust of air as opposed to a whole weather front, but it existed nonetheless.  
It shouldn't have, but it did, not unlike the colourfully dressed body it left behind on the contrastingly bland ground. It was some time before Jade opened her eyes again. In fact she had been back in 'existence' for about fifteen minutes, laying sprawled on her back somewhere undoubtedly foreign to her senses and trying not to think about the events that had occurred mere moments beforehand.

The first thing that had assailed her upon coming into being was the sudden inrush of intense sickness - bile rose in the back of her sore throat the instant sentient thought began again, and her tightly closed eyes snapped open to a world of unnervingly intense light. She groaned and rolled onto her side with an inaudible murmur and stared at the hand before her face with a frown...

Oh yes, that was _her_ hand, wasn't it?

And so, stunned and shaken, the curiously dazed pirate lapsed into a fit of lethargy.

By the time that Jade had finally taken the initiative to sit up, she had already managed to make several observations as to her condition: any of the scars or injuries afflicted during her actual death were nonexistent, so no broken ribs or the like-disappointingly, however, none of the other scars had been healed, and her brand mark was as clear as ever beneath her sleeve. This elicited a grumble from the pirate, but at least it was something. She had also, after several seconds of abject confusion, managed to locate Jack. It hadn't been that difficult really, spotting a huge black ship on the horizon of a flat landscape, but it calmed her nerves, if only slightly, to know she wasn't alone. All she had to do now was to make it back with the compass and captain.

Another five minutes later and Jade was on her shaking legs and staggering off in the direction of the _Black Pearl_, a grim smile on her face and bright eyes shimmering with the suppressed emotions brought about by remembering her death. She reached the dark mass in less than two hours, and was by then more or less suitably refreshed feeling and exuberant (for having few earthly afflictions in the Locker such as the need to feel tired-most likely so the unfortunates could suffer their punishment eternally) with a clear head and set of ideas. Tilting her head back to stare at the railings of the _Pearl_ from where she stood, the pirate sniffed and glanced around shiftily before finally giving vent to a simple call.

"Cap'n Jack?!"

************************************************************

Jack cowered on the deck, his grubby hands outstretched pleadingly. Covered in cuts and bruises, he looked up pitifully at the man raising the cutlass for either another blow or worse...

_"Can't we call it square?"_

The menacing figure looked at him coldly, readying to strike. It paused.

"What was that?"

_"Cap'n?"_ the wretch whimpered.

"Thought I 'eard some'ing."

The captain's eyes searched for the cause. He sheathed his cutlass, ignoring the sigh of relief from his former victim. He called up to a crewman in the rigging. "Keep on the lookout, I'm going down there." He took hold of a mooring line and swung over the rails of the great black ship. His boots touched down on sand so flat and pure it could have been marble. The captain wandered the outskirts of his vessel, but saw no one. The faint echo of someone or something speaking hung in the air, but he couldn't make out the words. He had the uncomfortable sensation of something he'd never had the sensation of...all he could think to describe it as was being in two worlds at once and only being able to see one of them...which of course was exactly his problem.

He strode out from the base of the _Black Pearl_ in order that his crew could see him.

"Can y'see anything?" he bellowed.

_"Not a bloody thing, Jack."_

***BANG***

A man with dread-locked hair in a red bandanna fell from the rigging. The arm of the man alone on the wasteland lowered, a smoking pistol clutched in his fingertips.

"That would be "not a bloody thing, _Captain_ Jack"..."

*********************************************************

The lack of anything to respond to Jade's call brought with it a certain sense of stupidity for the pirate. Standing somewhat shiftily on the flat ground, the young pirate waited several moments in self-conscious silence before she finally gave in and in her curiosity, made a swift round of the ship up to the bow. This exploration didn't reveal the captain to be stood anywhere at _this_ level, so maybe the bugger was ignoring her from the deck.

Grumbling, she reached out for a conveniently hanging tow-rope the same colour of the ship and tugged it lightly. As it uncoiled and unfurled (for a distressingly long time) something not unlike a shot rolled along the flat landscape. She jarred involuntarily and whirled about, to be confronted by only the blank landscape. Her eyes narrowed slightly as another sound- not unlike what may have been words - assailed her senses, and a familiar sense of displacement made the hairs on the back of Jade's neck prickle. Slowly, and with a shudder, she dug her boot toes between the boards of the ship, and began to climb.

The deck, when she reached it, was apparently just as deserted as the ground below. Starting to grow anxious now, she dumped her satchel by the ship's wheel and descended the stairs Captain's cabin beneath the quarterdeck. The pirate poked her head inside and found little else of interest but for a few interesting new guns and a globe, but no Jack. Typical. Another glance to confirm this, and she quickly made a swift raid of his weaponry stock - depleting it of a single shot and a handful of powder.

Slamming the door with enough force to rattle the hinges behind her, the irritated pirate crossed to the middle of the large deck, (the sensation of it being beached causing her to misstep a few times) fumbling with the pistol now in her hands, and irritably released her frustration in a single motion: she raised the pistol horizontally and fired off across the deck- the shot ricocheted off of an empty bucket with a hollow _ping_, narrowly avoiding piercing the metal, before silence was again restored.

She sat herself down on the deck and sighed, massaging her temples irritably.

"Where in _Hell_ are you, Jack?"

**********************************************************

The addled pirate flinched suddenly and spun around to face his ship again. Something had happened and he couldn't place what. His ears had picked up nothing but his brain and nerves swore blindly that a gunshot had sounded in reply to his. His fear gave way to anger.

"Who opened fire?" he shouted up to the deck. "Did I order anyone to open fire? I bloody well think not! When I find out..." Jack grumbled viciously and ran over to the dangling rope from which he had descended. He sheathed his pistol and scrambled back up to the deck, tripping over the rails as he did. He got up, dusted himself and looked about.

He was alone.

"All right, weevils, get yerselves back on the deck. NOW!"

Pause.

"I mean it!"

Panic was setting in. He licked his lips.

"No jokes on the Captain. Give it up now and I'll let you all off!"

Silence.

"Right! That's 'ow you want it, is it? Mutiny! You're a load of useless Barbossas the lot o' you!" He paced the deck, anxious, shadow-scared - particularly as he couldn't find his shadow wherever he looked. He patted at his person, trying to find something to ease his worries. "Never any rum when I need it..." A roaming hand discovered something clipped to his belt. Jack unclipped it and gazed upon the black compass sealed in its box.

A voice sounded at his left ear, making him jump.

_"Go on, open it Jackie, 'ave another look!"_

_"Why bother? Every time he does it just spins round an' round. This is hell, mates, no simple magic compass is going to lead us out,"_ scoffed another voice, this time from his right.

Jack quailed at the sight of two tiny versions of himself arguing across his shoulders. "I thought I told you two to bugger off!"

_"Can't, Jackie, we're you."_

_"What he said."_

Jack grumbled and turned his attention to the compass again. He tapped its surface for a moment, then flipped it open. The needle span madly...

...and began to slow down...

***********************************************************

Surreal lay aboard the ship unsure as to what had happened, or where she was. It took a few painfully long seconds before she became aware of her surroundings. Once that had occurred, the vision she had encountered with Tam came rushing back. Surreal physically shook with the effort of trying to organize her thoughts. She sat on the deck for what seemed a life time before she was able to see her surroundings. Sure enough that nothing from the experience had physically harmed her, Surreal got up and wobbled to her cabin. She sneered at any of her crew that tired to offer assistance. Once inside the cabin she grabbed some parchment and started to sketch the statue that haunted her thoughts.

Dawn had settled before Surreal finally left her cabin in search of Tam, she had spent hours drawing and writing notes. Even on the edge of exhaustion she couldn't stop until she had a written account of what she had seen and heard. It took only a small amount of time until she found Tam asleep.

_Should I wake her...?_

With all the effort Surreal had used just to organize her thoughts, she couldn't imagine what Tam had gone though. There was such a burning desire to find out about the man who ran Tam through which was stopping the assassin from walking out of the room. Instead she sat down near where the woman lay, allowing her mind to wander until Tam decided to wake up.

************************************************************

Jade had sat there, stretching her brain to the limit of vexation and massaging her aching head, for what felt like an eternity; the piercing heat, unspoiled by a breeze, was starting to make her feel uncomfortable, and the unbearable brightness stung her eyes. She was undeniably dead, lost and trapped in this hellish wasteland.

And worst of all...? Nothing was coming to her, and no amount of thought was going to easily understand the lack of a Captain to his ship or a remedy for his absence. Well, it wouldn't matter now - she was dead and if she never got out, then the Compass would have no use for her anyway. Drumming her fingers idly against the dark deck-boards of the ship, Jade tilted her head back to the skies and hummed idly. She was so..._bored_. Without a purpose, Jade's mind began to slowly settle into an awful dull 'thrum'. She daydreamed.

Not for long though, because once again something distinctly unreal triggered her senses and she glanced back down. She could swear there was a voice, but not as though she could hear it - more or less she sensed it. And it was closer. Frowning, Jade heaved herself to her feet and listened again. Nothing now. She took a pace back, and heard it again. Felt distant, though, as if...from above, maybe? She repeated the action several more times and began walking backwards, staring up at the rigging hopefully for any signs of life-

At the precise moment the needle stopped, Jack felt something slap into his back. He whirled on the spot, pistol drawn, letting the compass drop back to hanging off his belt. No sooner was he over the shock, he lowered the gun.

"Oh. It's you." He wrinkled his nose impolitely. He turned his head to look just over Jade's shoulder. "In the unlikely event I'll ever want your opinion, I'll ask for it, savvy?" He narrowed his eyes, this time looking just to his left, listening to a voice she couldn't hear. "Not real?" he muttered. "Well of course she's not real. Just someone else to torment me.

"Aren't you, love?" This time he was addressing Jade, a sardonic smile on his face.

Upon bumping into Jack, Jade had whipped about with a start, eyes resting upon the item directly in front of her eyes: the barrel of a gun. Her gaze following up the weapon, she relaxed her shoulders as recognition dawned at roughly the same time as the Captain as to whom she was facing. Stilling her hand from grabbing her own gun, Jade made a small attempt to smile awkwardly when the pirate pulled a face and sneered. She frowned - was something wrong?

The real confirmation came when he began talking - not so much to her as to some blank space. Furrowing her eyebrows, the younger pirate tilted her head and followed his eyeline to nothingness. It made her secretly wonder exactly how stable Jack's mentality was at present. This was answered rather blatantly in his next statement directed at his other shoulder.

_"Not real? Well of course she's not real. Just someone else to torment me. Aren't you, love?"_

Slightly perturbed by the smile he gave her, it was several moments before Jade fully responded, and when she did so it was flat. "If you're speaking in terms of bein' alive in the living world, then yes, I'm not real. What I _am_, however, is stuck in this bleedin' place. Believe me, Jack; I wouldn't exist in your mind even if it was th' last place on Earth. Oh-." A humourless smirk crossed her face for an instant as she tugged at something. Raising her branded arm, Jade tossed back the ring Jack had swapped hers for. "I believe that is yours, _Captain_."

Jack snatched up the ring. He squinted at it, though it took him a moment to recognise it was his. Too confused to be reluctant, he slid the one he had stolen from his hand, swapped it for his old one and threw Jade's ring back to her. "So if you're not in my mind, and I'm pretty sure this place isn't either, how _did_ you get 'ere?" He frowned and looked up at the sky. "Come to think of it, how did _I_ get here? Where's here?"

A voice heard only by Jack sounded.

"Don't you be getting smart with me. I di'n't ask before because I thought I was dreaming, all right? No wind, no sea, great bloody desert with my ship parked randomly in the middle? No sense, no memory...Q.E.D I'm asleep!" A few moments of silence. Jack smirked at his invisible interlocutor. "Well maybe I'm _half_ asleep, then. She's 'ere but nothing else is, savvy?" At last he turned to Jade again, and sighed. "I can't believe I'm going to ask this and I almost certainly think I don't deserve it, but would you do me the honours?" He gestured to his face and screwed his eyes shut.

She caught the ring as it was thrown back to her by reflex as she watched the Captain, once again, begin jabbering on to the air about him as if it was educated. Shaking her head sadly, she inspected the simplistic piece of jewellery for several moments as she waited for Jack to finish his conversation before he turned back to her.

_"I can't believe I'm going to ask this and I almost certainly think I don't deserve it, but would you do me the honours?"_

It took several seconds for Jade to fully understand exactly what it was the pirate was asking of her, and when it did finally get through, she gave a barking, derisive laugh. This dwindled into nothingness as she realised that Jack was serious and could possibly need this to steady his mind...it might also help to relieve her stress. After another moment she finally shrugged, flexing her right hand as she did so.

"If that's...uh...what y' _want_, Cap'n."

Before he could say otherwise, Jade stepped closer to the pirate and, without hesitation, slapped him.

Hard.


	48. Of Lae'rah

**Chapter XLVIII: Of Lae'rah**

The sleep had been a peaceful one for Tam: curled up on the floor with her features obscured by an arm, she rested herself for the first night in several years as a free person. But she was not totally free yet - she still had Surreal to work with. No matter, she was out of the infernal treatments in Singapore, and that was worth just one more adventure. Besides, she got to stretch her legs more often. All that concerned her now was how difficult her more surreal abilities were starting to become-that transfer on the deck shouldn't have left her as exhausted as that -  
Because someone, or rather something, was trying to stop it.

She sensed the movement and sounds of another person nearby without being fully aware of waking, a skill she still retained easily, which buoyed her confidence enough to permit her to wake. Both animalistic eyes snapped open fluidly and gave a blink before she yawned and twisted herself around to see Surreal, at which point she sat up, both eyebrows raised.

_Has she been to sleep at all since last night?_

Her tail flicked lazily as she silently implored the assassin to say whatever it was she was about to, interested to hear whatever she had to say.

Surreal had waited what seemed like a lifetime before Tam finally awoke. The speed with which Tam became fully aware of her surrounding shocked her. Though she wondered to herself why it should, as it was something she did also. She studied Tam before she decided to speak. The way in which Tam glanced over her was obvious as to what she had been wondering. Despite the blackout from the vision with Tam, Surreal had been awake for nearly two days straight. You would never have guessed by her appearance. Only her eyes gave an indication of fatigue. Even then her eyes remained sharp and focused. She would not allow herself to sleep until some of her questions had been answered by the tiger girl.

"Well rested I hope? We still have a few days more at sea before we reach our destination. I have a few drawings that I wish for you to study, they may need some alterations with what you may have seen. But it can wait until you answer a couple of questions." Surreal waited a couple of breaths before she decided to continue. "I am sure you are aware that when we fused...if that is what you want to call it... I was able to get a glimpse of your past. One image that played over was your death." She stopped to allow Tam a chance to explain all before she asked.

For a few seconds, Tam blanked her face and appeared to be composing her thoughts - she didn't show awkwardness or seem unduly upset or surprised by this inquisition-rather she seemed to be galvanising her thoughts and explaining them with careful slowness. "The precise term for it is 'Lae'rah' or in this tongue, 'voicing'; sharing your inner voice with a person. It has a more literal translation, but it gets long and complex.  
As to my death...aye; I've seen what's on the other side and been there. I was run through by some stranger when I was younger and had become a pirate to make some money when my shop was destroyed. The man was from the Navy in an attack, but cornered and killed me away from the main fight - he didn't do it right and I bled to death, but he watched it and found it amusing..."

Here she gave a twitch of her eyebrows and pulled a wry expression, then shrugged.

"I'd like to see him again, but I doubt I'll get my chance - he was high in the Navy rankings though...very high, because all the others looked up to 'im, so he'll probably be a Lord or a Commodore, a Mayor or a Governor or something. I'd know it was him when I saw him though." Her tail twitched, she paused again, and then smiled at Surreal as politely as her fang-like teeth would permit. "Why did you want to know?"

Tam's answer was rather unexpected. Surreal had the feeling that getting that one simple answer would have taken much more persuasion.

_She must be losing her stubbornness._

"Something about him seemed familiar to me, though if we were, as you call it Lae'rah, then it could have just been something in that connection that made him seem familiar." Surreal pondered her own answer as if there was something amiss. She did not believe for one second that her recognition of that man had anything to do with the Lae'rah. "Once this is over, that is if we survive, I have a few resources that might aid in finding this piece of dirt."

Even this small act of kindness was like a stone lodged in her throat. _There must be something about you, Tam, that I must sincerely like. Or is it that some part of you reminds me of, well, me?_

"You may continue to rest for now. Once you feel fully rested, come to my cabin. As I said earlier there are drawings I wish for you to add your opinion to." At her last word Surreal had already headed out of the room. Her mind swirled around all of the questions unasked. Yet every time she tried to focus her mind onto the island, it was like her mind's eye became confused and threw up scatters of images from her past. Yet never once did any of these images reveal to her the name she truly desired to know.

"Mmm..." Blankly, Tam nodded to the retreating Surreal and, now alone, began to stretch her stiffened muscles. In this time as she sat alone, she began to contemplate, with some critical sense, the assassin's words. She knew from experience and information, that when in Lae'rah, you were inclined to share the emotions of the hosting memories unless there was a particularly powerful emotion considering the subject - for example a love and hate relationship; the second mind would still love the person in the memories despite the hatred that the host mind might have.

What she did know, though, was that people shouldn't be familiar in Lae'rah - Surreal might have just felt a strange connection, as you do randomly, or she could genuinely know that piece of filth....

And she had connection: a thing Tam hadn't had for many years. She had been quite well acquainted with a lot of storekeepers, captains and pirate lords - undoubtedly half would be dead and the other half would have forgotten her completely by now. The spirit that inhabited her also knew quite a few people...it could very dimly remember the only time it had been outside of the temple was when it was called upon for council about an urgent matter with the Pirate Lords. Here, both sides of the body remembered the same person with different emotions - Captain Teague. To Tam, he had been an obnoxious stickler for rules who had her thrown out of Pirates Cove for being too outspoken. To the spirit, he was just another bloke who had been at the gathering to get an opinion from an immortal being about something trivial or other. It had always been suspicious of the Pirates since they had trapped Calypso.

Still, Surreal had agreed to help find and get retribution on whomever it was who had killed her, and she probably had the resources too. Allowing Tam to take nearly full control of her own body, she stood up after a short while and staggered over to the door, confused as her tail dragged limply with little energy and she felt a sudden inrush of sickness.

_What's happening to us?_

_- We're in competition with whatever spirit's around here - they've been trying to make using any powers I have harder by making you suffer and lose concentration too._

_...Right-oh. We'll just have to hang in there, I guess._

_-Well, only for so long._

Tam had reached the upper decks and was taking a breath of fresh air to relieve the sensations of illness before enquiring.

_Meaning?_

_- Well...if it gets too bad, you'll die and if I didn't find something else to inhabit, so would I, and do not desire to be going there ever._

_But you've never experienced death- how do you know it's bad?_

_- I've seen yours._

_....Point taken. Well then, we'll just have to get out of here as quickly as we can then, won't we._

_- Let me take control for a bit and get us back to full health._

_If you give Surreal any cheek, I'm taking back over, understood?_

_- Best behaviour. Promise. Either way, I'm in a good mood. Will be nice to have control for a bit._

_You had it most of the time in the bathhouse - four years._

_-....It will only be until you're feeling well again. You need more rest, and I don't- you'll still have your say._

_Fine._

Resentfully, Tam, unused to being _asked_ to change over, (the spirit usually took control when it felt like it) handed over the control of the physical self to the spirit. Her relaxed muscles suddenly leaped into life, and every part of her body stiffened as she became suddenly more alert. More angular looking and fluid in motion, she crossed the deck space easily, tail waving slowly behind her, and knocked on Surreal's cabin door, waiting a few seconds as her eyes became more slitted and wild before pushing it in and tilting her head.

"Surreal? I'm ready to chat now."

Surreal glanced up as Tam entered the room. The difference in Tam's appearance was thoroughly noted by Surreal.

_This must be the spirit._

As her mind still wandered, Surreal needed something to concentrate on. The mystery of the name could wait a while longer. It worried her that there must be something more powerful than she first anticipated on that island, especially for it to cloud its own name from her memory.  
"Come and look at these." Surreal guided her hand over sheets of paper. The largest of the sheets had the island upon it, full scale and detail, included were also notations as to which was the most effective route onto the island, and from there to the temple. The next few were just drawings of the temple from different angles, there weren't as much details on these as Surreal hadn't seen enough of it to get it to paper. The last drawing with the most detail was of the statue with glowing eyes. The notations around this drawing were endless, even small tales that Surreal remembered from her childhood.

_I wonder what she will make of this._

"I will leave you to look at these. You may add anything you feel necessary...... except for this last sheet," she indicated to the statue, "anything you wish to add, use another sheet." Surreal waited for no questions and left Tam to consider the drawings. As she headed to her room, a riddle came to her. _Why would something so powerful allow me, a lost child as it were, to seek out my answers to a long forgotten past. Those who came here before me never made it off the island, so why give me the chance to form a route?_

Tam's glazed expression never faltered as she nodded faintly to Surreal. Calmly, impassively, her right hand spidered over the assortment of drawings, the motion separating the sheets more effectively as she inspected them with that same keenly bland stare....

"I see...all right, I shall see what I can do."

She remained thus, collected and calm, until the door clicked softly behind her and the footsteps outside receded. Her keen hearing waited, waited, until she knew there was no one in earshot...

The instant that was so, all Hell broke loose in the cabin as the desk was kicked over in one fluid, furious movement. Her voice was sharp and hissing as the unusual tiger-spirit girl began to hyperventilate with fury.

"I don't want to see them any more! I don't want to remember!"

Paper was scattered and crumpled as the desk was assaulted yet again with a grumpy, if less volatile, kick. Panting lightly and readjusting as her dilated pupils began to get back to normal, she glared and paced agitatedly about the room, tail flicking and thrashing angrily behind her as she stalked up and down. Prowling and growling, she hunched her shoulders as she padded in the same linear pattern, pains in her hands and head causing more irritance. The real Tam was not impressed, but neither was she angry as much as curious.

_Care to explain...?_

_- What needs explaining?_

_You just attacked a perfectly harmless desk._

Tam gave the large piece of furniture a sidelong glance and resumed pacing.

_- Did I? Oh, clumsy me,_ she said, feigning complete ignorance, but the response she got was sharp and irritable.

_I really don't care what the problem is, but Surreal will want to know._

_- Well she can't!_

_What's so bad?_

_- You don't want to know, trust me._

_We're slowly combining thought, mate. Pretty soon we'll be one person, and I'll know it all anyway-what did you see that was so bad?_

_- SHUT UP!_ she tried to lash out at her curious interrogator, blind for a moment to the fact that she was a mental voice. It left several gashes on the wall. There was a long, indefinite pause after this as Tam stopped to inspect these long marks, and then raised her hand to inspect. Her sharp nails were ever-so-slightly curved and definitely, it could be said, more claw-like. Her eyes narrowed in agitation as the real Tam began to panic angrily.

_How much more time do I have left being SOME part human?_

_I need to know. Now._

_- It's taken you several years just to develop the tail, eyes, fangs and now, claws...the sense comes immediately with the colour-blindness. I can feel that your ears are more pointed, but nothing more altered then that. I'd say another three years and you'll be starting the process of actually turning properly in body shape..._

_Oh wonderful._

_- I can't do anything to prevent it - you'll still have the power of speech and human thought._

_Oh well I'll be sure to be thankful for that when I have no thumbs._

A second pause penetrated the small cabin as, sullenly, Tam sunk to the ground, exhausted. Both remained in silence for some time until, eventually, Tam spoke again.

_What did you recognize to make you so angry?_

_- Spirits aren't always here from the birth of time-spirits get killed and born, but the manners of doing so are much different. Not unlike gods or goddesses, they CAN be bound to human forms. Like us. And it just so happens that spirits get released in the same way as souls do-the essence of the body. The first tiger was sacrificed to a statue like the one on the drawing, and it's soul became the first tiger spirit-right?_

_I see._

_- My family line was descended from this tiger, and kept as pure blood-when and if the spirit was killed, another tiger would be slaughtered to take it's place. It was so long ago, being a tiger is nothing but a broken and old memory, but I know they slaughtered me in front of an identical statue._

_So you do know what it's like to be killed!_

_- Well, not exactly - becoming a spirit bridges the need to 'go beyond the gates', as it were._

_Oh. Why're you so angry about it, though? I thought you wan-_

_- No._

_Not even-_

_- No. I may not remember much of my life as a tiger, but I certainly was far happier in my ignorance. I was stuck on my island for thousands of years -pondering about the world, curious to the sensations and frights of more mortal creatures._

_And then I came along, and you decided to explore?_

_- And it's gotten me this. Trust me, if it could be reversed soon, I would take every pain to._

_You freed me from death, that's fair enough. I just want to see a bit more of the world before I change...permanently._

_- Indeed._

_Well then, you'd best clear up and find Surreal._

Wordlessly, Tam blinked at the heavy old desk and, fearful lest she worsen the hairline cracks in the solid timber, righted it. Spilled ink was mopped up with a spare rag that was stuffed into an old pocket, and the papers were dutifully restored to their places - thankfully none of them had ripped. Without another word, Tam filled in one or two little, possibly missed details of the island, and general facts she knew about the temple and how they worked, then pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment from a drawer and jotted down odd little facts about the type of statue it was, general myths surrounding the winged creature, and any other tales she had heard-it covered half a page or so of messy, scruffy script. She viewed it critically.

_- I need writing lessons._

_You should have let me do it, y'know._

_- Ah well, she can ask if she can't read it._

Fiddling absentmindedly with the newly acquired Piece Of Eight about her neck, Tam exited the room and went towards Surreal's cabin, odd eyes flicking side to side as she searched for the assassin to take her back to the room.


	49. Blacksmith On Board

**Chapter XLIX: Blacksmith On Board**

He didn't know how long he'd been out. A day? An hour? A few seconds? Time was nothing in this place, or maybe it was everything. Whatever the case, Jack's brain hurt more than his stinging face. His eyes flickered open and began to focus on the shape looming over him.

"All right. You're here, I'm here..." He groaned at the throbbing that told him the back of his skull was very displeased at hitting the ground. "But where's everything else? Every_one_ else...? There were...others...when the Pearl...Aztec madman..."

More impressed with the fact that she had floored the addled pirate than she was concerned for his well-being, Jade arched her eyebrows sceptically at Jack as she massaged her stinging hand, mirroring his confusion with exasperation. Voice politely restrained, the younger of the two dead souls coughed and shook her head.

"Alright mister Sparrow, allow me to make this clear to you in the most charmingly blunt manner possible. You and me are dead and coexisting in a place called Davy Jones' Locker. There is no _anyone else_, or any _thing_ for that matter but what you imagine t' be your personal Hell, as I guess you know. You got killed the same way I did: by that...Thing." Here she paused to give an involuntary shudder before proceeding, "So 'whoever you were with is either jus' dead or survivin' elsewheres. Until the 'cavalry' your mate the blacksmith shows up, we're stuck 'ere waitin' until he finds a way to get in and out of this place. "

Allowing several awkward seconds to tick by in this unnerving and rather revealing landscape of another's personal demons, Jade resolved finally to show the Captain an ounce of kindness enough to offer him her slender hand and sardonic smile.

"Come on, get up-you ain't much fun when y' lazin' about like that."

Jack squinted at her in the light of the invisible sun. "Blacksmith? That would be Master Turner then..." he pondered.

"Oh," he said after a moment. "I'm doomed." He closed his eyes again.

A few more long, eternal seconds passed before he spoke once more. To his ears, it felt like a thousand Jacks were whispering out into this white sandy void.

"If we're both in the Locker, and this is _my_ hell...where's yours then, eh?" His sooty eyelids remained closed.

"_M-Mine_?...Uh...Well..." Jade's outstretched hand paused mid-motion towards the Captain when she began to think of this. Tentatively, the hand curled into a fist as the smile faded from her face and several muscles twitched. Jade lowered the arm with deliberate force and glared sparks at the calm-looking pirate before she shrugged and turned away, stalking to the railings. Once there, she leant her weight against the reassuring solidity of the _Pearl_ with a deep frown; her sharp eyes found the trackless horizon where they lingered painfully for several moments as she contemplated this paradox. "How should I have a clue how this bloody thing works? If it isn't here, then I ain't complainin', y' know...?"

Her fingers added pressure to the railings as she began to wonder exactly what it would look like in her Locker. Well, it wouldn't 'look' so much as simply 'be', really -a whole lot of nothingness with no concept of reality or sense; she would be made into a redundant being in a superfluous void of timelessness. No senses, no more experiencing life, no more outside influence-literally ceasing to be, yet with a consciousness that this was so.

Urgh.

Feeling her face flush with unbidden terror at the mere thought of her life being put 'on hold', Jade took a deep breath and glanced back over her shoulder, tactlessly changing the subject before anything else resumed. "So, do you remember all you'd forgotten now? Know why you're 'ere or do I need to pull another 'favour'?"

Jack raised his hands to ward off any unwanted extras. "No no, I'm good. Things are looking _much_ clearer," he said, half-tempted to sneer at the three other Jacks nearby who weren't so convinced. He wobbled back towards the rope he had used to disembark and took hold. "May'aps we can get this old girl moving again. Tide's probably just a bit too far out...aye..." A hint of weakness shone behind his eyes, as though he had to keep on believing that there was some reality to the place, lest he cease to exist.

"There's a tide here?"

Fighting back the swiftly building headache threatening to drive her into fury, Jade allowed herself to lapse into a short, apathetic moment of self-pity. This was going to drive her crazy, she knew it; trapped in some endless desert with an insane pirate and an abandoned old ship could have no other outcome. How long had it actually been-minutes, hours, days, since she had simply begun to think this? The place was timeless, endless, and seemingly identical in all directions - faint hills at the horizon stretched out with sand...lots of sand. Without a sound sense of place or time, Jade was utterly disoriented by the alien landscape.

Resisting the instinct to whimper a little, she followed Jack numbly and leant over the railings, staring ahead to the horizon. Glancing across to the pirate, she opened her mouth to make some disparaging remark before catching the look in his eyes. She sighed, looked back down again and shrugged. Perhaps something to do would keep her from losing it...

"Whatever you think's going to work- jes' tell me what to do."

Jack slid down the rope once more, his boots lightly scampering onto the eerie marble sand. He strutted over to the bulkhead side of the _Black Pearl_ and grimaced at it for a while. He tickled the air with his fingertips, muttering to himself, muttering in reply to himself. Clearly his condition worsened. Finally he decided on his next course of action. He rubbed his hands together, blew on them, placed them on the barnacled wood of his beloved lady and ...

...began to push.

She followed him wordlessly and at a good distance, sliding quietly down the towrope behind the pirate in curiosity as she tracked his movements. What was he actually planning on _doing_ to the ship from down here? Or rather more, what did either of them think they could do? As useful a distraction it could be from the hell at hand, there wasn't an awful lot that two people could do to even budge the immense hulk of the great black ship from it's surreal moorings. Jade watched Jack's efforts to push the ship along with a small grin of amusement at this vain, peculiar attempt, and yet an abashed sympathy shone in her eyes for thinking so when the Captain's brain was as scrambled as it appeared to be. Perhaps she shouldn't have encouraged him to give it a go.

Nevertheless, the entertainment value swiftly wore off and was replaced in it's absence by a feeling of unease as the pirate resumed with unseen success, and sure enough Jade felt it apt amongst her boredom to try to stop Jack before he wore himself out, bust something, became even crazier or...whatever. She approached Sparrow as one would approach a savage dog; slowly and with close scrutiny at every little movement in the muscles for the slightest hint of her presence being noticed. With painful quietness and steady creeping, Jade came close enough to reach out and take a gentle grip of the pirate's shoulder - whether it was a gesture to comfort, reassure or just ensure that she could pull him away if necessary was unknown.

"Jack...?"

******************************************************

As the door creaked open Surreal remained poised at the threshold of her inner door, thoughts swirling around in her head. After a few heartbeats she made her way into the main cabin.

"Oh Tam, finished already?" she asked as she approached her. Surreal noted the splintered wood on Tam's hands. She thought about asking the question that had been building in her mind but instead she only raised her eyebrows at Tam, leaving the question unsaid.

In response to the spoken question, Tam simply bobbed her head politely and blinked once, amber eyes flat and calm as she stared back at the assassin. When said woman glanced to her hands and raised both eyebrows, a curiosity drove her to glance down too-

_Oh bugger. We really spoiled those walls..._

Stiffly and without a flicker of emotion but for a fleeting flash of frustration in her eyes, she dropped her hands to her sides before awkwardly muttering something and starting off back down the corridor to the cabin and it's papers. She reached it and opened the door for Surreal, indicating the tidied desk with a slightly clenched hand to better disguise her newest 'modification'.

"I wrote whatever you'll be needing on there..."

***********************************************************

Up on deck, a wave-battered and drenched form rolled onto the boards. Will Turner choked up as much water as he could manage and then collapsed unconscious on the foreign ship.

************************************************************

A thumping sound of someone on deck and the startled calls of excited men hit Tam's sensitive ears several instants before Surreal, and without so much as noting her leave, the spirit-controlled tiger woman vanished out of the doorway. She sprang on deck with a few easy strides, eyebrows furrowed lightly in curiosity as she noted the sodden and limp form that had just collapsed on the boards. Her impaired eyesight shot upwards to the horizon behind him, scanning for his source of travel. Having found little or no evidence of a craft so to speak of, she let this slide in preference of waking the unconscious man herself-a low growl and lashing of the tail later, and the crew that had been pressing in to assist were dispersed with dissenting sneers and baleful whines. She crouched beside him and crinkled her nose at what might have been considered a 'handsome' man, wondering for a second if he used that mortal power against fellow opponents prone to fall under his charm, but even without being awake, it seemed an honest enough face...

Time to wake him up with a bang, then, and see if she was right.

Her right hand placed just below his ribcage, Tam used her left to none-too-gently buffet his face as she pressed down with a single, powerful push to restore consciousness and expel excess water he might have swallowed. Her voice was irritatingly loud and unsympathetic as it growled at him.

"Oi, mate, get up off our deck- we can do without you collapsin' all over the place, you know!"

The speed in which Tam exited the room surprised Surreal, it took her a moment too long to realize what had captured the woman's attention. Upon hearing the commotion from above, Surreal glided out the room carrying Kaetien. She arrived just in time to see Tam violently wake up the stranger who lay sprawled out on her deck. As Surreal moved closer, the crew parted to allow her through. Once close enough she suddenly realized why she felt no threat from the figure - it was in fact William Turner.

_Well well well what do we have here?_

She stepped closer to Will so that she was towering over him, and with the slightest nod of her head, she indicated that Tam could do all she wished to wake him up.

At last, Will Turner choked out water and gasped in his much-needed oxygen. Eyes stinging from the sea, he focused painfully on the two women standing over him. "Surreal?"

As Will spluttered her name, Surreal tried to hide the smile that threatened to appear. She watched as he realized who she was.

"My dear William." She paused as she inched closer to him. "What have I done to deserve such a pleasure, what with you arriving aboard my vessel unannounced!"

As the young man coughed into painful wakefulness in the stead of her unrelenting pressure, Tam recoiled a little and sat back on her haunches to better watch him. Oh, so Surreal knew him. Well that was disappointing- she had rather been hoping to pointlessly antagonise the stranger until he went insane, or jumped off the ship, or maybe both. Rubbing the back of her neck, Tam's tail gave a lazy twitch as she shifted her flat amber stare over to Surreal for some answers.

"How'd you know this man?"

Surreal regarded Tam as she considered the answer to her question. "Well, you see, I had the pleasure of meeting Mr Turner in Port Royal." She spared a glance for the spluttering whelp. "As to why he is here, only he can answer that....." She trailed off as she was lost in thought as to why he would be this far from Port Royal. Finally she glanced at Tam. "Why do you want to know? What interest is he to you might I inquire?" she asked as it suddenly occurred to her that she answered a question without knowing the reasons behind it.

_I am getting to lack with Tam, I'm treating her like I treat Titan. _Thinking of Titan only brought back raw feelings so she pushed that thought aside and regarded Tam.

Will dragged himself onto his knees with great effort and watched the two women have their banter. He was exhausted...that bastard Jones had left Kestrel upon an unknown island and then ... then the _Dutchman_ had dived with him still upon it. Thinking his lungs would burst, he'd had to swim back up to the surface and use yet more of his depleted strength to reach the oriental-style ship ahead. He looked blearily about the deck, wondering how much more of the sea would threaten to rise from his stomach.

_'Why do you want to know? What interest is he to you might I inquire?'_

Taken aback a little at this sudden question, Tam flared her nostrils and glared levelly towards the assassin, trying to force her teeth not to bare in defensive anger as she snarled quietly. Her tail had fluffed a little, but as it was to her, it was a personal improvement in self-restraint. "Typically when a stranger washes up on a ship bound for danger, out of no conceivable craft to have been on, one is curious about how coincidence works for you to know them." Tilting her head back to Will, the feline woman would have demanded explanation immediately, but a slow migraine was starting to build in her head once again, and she slipped back from her crouch into a sitting position, grumbling and rubbing her head as she waved a free hand and spoke quietly from between clenched teeth.

"Ask 'im then.."

Surreal watched Tam in amusement, as it appeared that she seemed to have hit a nerve. "Very well," she murmured before she turned to face Will. "Mr Turner, would you care to explain..." She paused while she tried to control her face so that her next comment wouldn't have her in fits of hysterics, ".... otherwise I shall have to leave you in Tam's charge, and as you might have noticed, she isn't very patient..." Surreal left the threat hanging while she studied Will.

"Hell I ain't..." Tam sniggered falsely through her clenched teeth as she massaged her temples, feeling as if the insides of her brain were going to leak through her ears. Damn these migraines; they always tended to come on just after a surprise or argument - the best possible moments to be the exact opposite, and remembering that didn't lift the grey cloud from her head an inch. "So you'd better get on an' tell us how you got aboard without any life-raft I c'n see."

Will sighed wearily. "If I told you, you wouldn't believe me." He considered where to begin. He could barely understand the whole coincidence of running into Surreal again let alone the insanity of recent events. "What I will tell you is that I'm here to strike a bargain. I have reason to believe that someone on this ship is in possession of a piece of eight, someone who is one of The Nine, and that this person can help me in my quest."

"Oh are they now?" Dropping her hands from face to knees, Tam gave William a sidelong glance and raised a quizzical eyebrow, the flat tone of voice giving as little away as she could whilst her tail incessantly twitched and thumped against the deck. The little knotted pendant about her neck suddenly felt very special, and it took a strong will not to want to touch it. "An' what pray would you be 'bargaining' with to this person who has the Piece? Are you so certain that you can offer them something they'd help you for?"

Surreal watched the sequence of events while trying not to break out in fits of hysterics. The only thing holding her back was the sudden appearance of Will, and it felt like the Island once again had found a way to delay her neverending quest. For years she had yearned to get ashore so she could unlock the secrets of her past, but like the oceans tide, every time she got close, something or someone always pulled her away. She glanced over to the Island, imagining the temple that haunted her dreams. _Looks like you win....._

She swung her gaze back to Tam and the blacksmith. "Tam, come with me. You two," she pointed to some of Sao Feng's men, "Bring him." She indicated to Will. "There are things I wish to discuss with you Tam, whilst we wait for Turner to arrive." She waited for no reply as she stalked off to her cabin.

The large amber eyes of Tam blinked slowly as she watched Surreal leave for the cabin before swiveling back to Will. They stared at the young Blacksmith intently for a moment before she rose to her feet, eyes still focused on the man as her tail twitched once. "All right. We can negotiate price later, but in principal I'll give your request a listen to and you can count me as interested. Explain it to me when we have time."

Winking softly as she tapped the knotted pendant with a clawlike nail, the expression on Tam's face dissolved back into calm scrutiny with little effort before she followed the 'Captain'. She entered the cabin after SaDiablo soundlessly, hands folded behind her back in a contemplative manner as she studied the charts on the desk. There was no need for words from the possessed woman. It would all be explained to her soon enough.


	50. The Element Of Surprise

**Chapter L: The Element Of Surprise**

The _SprayScourge_ swept across the seas in the view of the _Kaelas_. Her bow was strung with a few live merchants her captain had captured from the vessel she had not long since encountered. They wailed as the surf threatened to drown them. The alarm sounded across the ship that they had sighted another vessel. Freeta strode out of her cabin and tore a chunk out of a loaf of bread she had plundered, amongst other things.

"That ain't a merchant ship," she called. "Roll out the cannons, yer slimy mudcrawlers! Leave the Roger up and take 'er closer. Lessee what we're dealing with in these waters."

*********************************************************

"Ship ahoy, Cap'n. Her guns are out! Orders?" Stubleg called to Titan as he spotted the ship heading towards them.

"Bring her about, run out the guns, 'n' raise the colours!" Titan bellowed. "If it's a fight they want then it's a fight they'll have!" Titan looked through his spyglass towards the other ship to only realize that its captain was a woman. "What is it with me and bloody women?" Titan grumbled.

The _Kaelas_ quickly approached the ship.

"Steady......steady......" Titan waited for the right moment then – "Weigh anchor on the starboard side, we'll surprise the git. As soon as we're in range, fire!" Titan shouted.

***********************************************************

Freeta glowered at the approaching ship. "Ahh, the jammy sea-swine. They're armed and starting to broad-side."

She drew out her mace and kissed its handle before bellowing up to the helmsman.

"Draw in to her in line with 'er prow so's she can't fire at us. They may 'ave better guns but by the size of 'er I'd say we outdo her in number. Make ready the grapples again, cullies, we'll skim 'er side and board her at the last!"

***************************************************************

"Bugger," Titan growled. "Their cap'n is as smart as Surreal!"

"All right, men, they want a close quarter fight lets give it them! No mercy! As soon as we're in line half of you board that ship. The rest of you set up the traps!" Titan bellowed. "Your move, Cap'n!"

The _SprayScourge_ turned at the last moment before collision and passed a hair's breadth alongside her opponent. A first wave of crewmen leapt onto the deck of the _Kaelas_. A second wave jumped up with a vast wall of netting, ready to tangle anyone attempting to board from the other side.

However, the Shade Freeta was nowhere to be seen.

The net confused and excited Titan. _Well now, she knows what she's doing, I'll give her that_, he mused.

The crew set up a very fast counter to the invading pirates. They cut all the grapple ropes. While other members of the crew prepared to board the other ship, the net would slow them down but wouldn't stop them. Four of the best sword masters aboard the _Kaelas_ flew into the net with their blades unsheathed. They reduced enough of the net to allow them access onto the other ship. They then made their way straight for the pirates that held up the net so that the rest of their crew could board the enemy ship easily.

Titan was unsure where the other captain had disappeared to, but before he could think to board her ship to search for her, he was involved in the fight about his own ship.

The melee on board the two ships was a chaotic blur. Weapons of all shapes and sizes swung over heads and crashed against each other. The crew of the _SprayScourge_ withdrew, roaring out a war-chant, into a semi-circle around the boarding enemy.

"Shade! Shade! Iron Vixen! Shade! Shade! Fox of Steel!"

Amid the confusion, a trapdoor opened above the _Scourge_'s quarterdeck, springing a heavy boarding plank out to smash onto the _Kaelas_' prow.

The Shade Freeta emerged from below, marched along the plank and stood at the head of her enemy's ship. Now fully attired for war, her face was covered with a mask of steel - the shape of a fox's head with sharp fangs at its jaw. Her red curls tumbled out either side of it. A thin plate armour - some would say brave, others, foolish - covered her shoulders, chest, arms and shins, each punctuated with spikes. She looked as if she were made of frozen mercury. In her bronzed hands she held a great mace, polished to glistening. Strapped to her left arm was a yellow and silver shield with the black emblem of a skull and crossbones. The skull, however, was a grinning fox.

Without a roar of encouragement, she stalked along the ship.

Titan watched in amazement as the enemy captain boarded his ship. He struggled to contain his laughter at her armour. As funny as it looked it was effective in the areas that he covered. The mace itself didn't even faze Titan, as it was just a weapon, a spiked one at that. "She's mine!" he shouted to the crew. He took off to intercept her in case any of his crew didn't hear him. "So my dear, nice outfit," he smirked. "What would your name be?"

Freeta glared through the icy silver of her mask. "All you will ever know me as is The Shade," she hissed. She brought the mace in an upward swing from the ground. It was a half-hearted attack as though she did not care whether she hit him or not. Her focus was more upon what he would do. The only way to be an effective wielder of her choice weapon was not to let its lack of speed be a disadvantage.

_Shade what a weird name for a girl. _As the mace approached Titan, he dodged backward. It missed by inches. He then charged at Shade with his sword drawn. Before the mace could change direction to aim at his head he swung at it, sending it off to his right, the movement throwing Shade off balance. In the space of a heart beat he was right back where he started.

"So, Shade, is that the best you've got?" he asked her mockingly.

Following through with the removal of her balance, Freeta allowed the mace to smash into the deck. Her hands positioned on the top of its haft, she pushed off it to jump out of harm's way then drew her weapon back into a stance. The most disturbing thing anyone ever noted about Shade Freeta was her vile serenity during any battle. Perhaps that explained why she was angry any other time.

"Why do me best and exhaust meself when I can do me worst an' still survive?" her voice rang coldly. "What cargo do ya carry afore we waste each other's time?"

"Meow! Catty! Well... at least now I know what to expect," he sniggered. "Oh and about the cargo, we haven't got any. You intercepted us before we hit port. Bad timing on your part, sweetheart." He paused before he continued to mock her. "Oh by and by you have wasted your time, but just to be kind we will waste even more of it as you ain't getting away that easily!" He smirked. "Take no prisoners!" he shouted to the rest of the crew. "Come on, Shade, give me your best." One last jibe before he set himself into a fighting stance, set to continue.

"I would never let it be said that I died fightin' my 'ardest, so ter know that you were doing your best will be satisfyin' enough when this be over." The Shade Freeta swung back the mace, bringing her jagged armguard forward to prevent a sneak attack. "You were the first to make battle manoeuvres. As for yer cargo, I only thought I'd ask in case there be something you would rather didn't get wet..." She brought the mace down hard on the blade of Titan's sword, delivering a shock of tremors all the way to the hilt.

As the blow from Shade's mace sent tremors along his sword, Titan dropped it so that he would remain unaffected. Instead of drawing another weapon he used the mace as leverage and flipped over Shade, so he was behind her. Without giving her a chance to react, Titan grabbed her from behind, pinning her to his body. He drew her away from her mace so that she couldn't attempt another swing.

"Well now…. feisty aren't we?" he whispered in her ear. Well, what he presumed was her ear under her armour. Being attracted to her made this manoeuvre rather risky, as he had to control how his body reacted to her being so close. "How about we sit down and talk rationally my dear Shade?" he inquired.

After a few moments of struggling, Freeta gave the sudden illusion of being totally relaxed. "If that be what you wish, then I insist, after you!"

She stamped heavily on her trapper's foot.

"Ouch…. you little…." Whatever Titan was about to say was muffled by his hand. _That… little…bloody…thing! _He decided to change tactics. He let go of her completely and drop-kicked her so she was lying on the floor, then he pinned her to the deck. "Bring me some irons!" he shouted to Stubleg. After a brief moment he returned with the irons, and some rope. Titan then went about clamping her hands, and tying her feet together. "This is what you get for being a pain!" he hissed.

The fox mask stared unblinkingly at its enemy.

Freeta roared out suddenly, "Belay! All hands save 'til next we meet!" At once those men on her ship who were not fighting pushed off from the _Kaelas_, tugging up or severing grapples, shoving their enemies back onto their own ship. The _SprayScourge_ turned its prow out and skimmed out of range of the cannons - keeping to the Code.

*************************************************

Another eternity had passed in an instant. Jack ceased straining against the gargantuan ship and he stood, without turning, for a very long time. He muttered incomprehensibly with himself. The whispers in his head had grown louder, rousing into an argument. Time flickered by, photographesque, milky-white. The voices in his head shouted for minutes that lasted days. Until -

At last, he closed his eyes, and opened them again. Jack Sparrow turned slowly towards his Locker companion, the shadow of his hat casting darkly over his face. His expression was eerily blank.

Much like the turning of the tide, the urge to assist Jack came and went in an instant with the shadowy, blank stare Jade received when the frazzled pirate finally noticed her. Slowly, the hand which had been outstretched curled into a light fist and dropped to one side, close enough to the holstered flintlock of hers to quell any fears. Knowing that they were the only ones in the Locker made her chances frighteningly slim if the Captain turned aggressive, but being armed at least gave the woman enough strength to stay put and not take several paces back from the imposing glare. Calculated mistrust in the stare she finally had the boldness to return, Jade licked dry, nervous lips and squinted a little.

"Cap'n, maybe you should sit down or sommat...you don' look very well, y' know?"

The hat still tilted to shield his eyes, Jack bared his teeth in an almost-smile, but it was just too venomous to turn into one.

"I find that hardly surprising," he said, dangerously. "And no thanks to you, Miss...Starfall. A remarkable coincidence that our fates should be sealed here. A young scrap of a girl just happens to choose to avoid the wrath of Davy Jones, yet sticks close to the very quarry he hunts? An accident, of course, that her convenient kidnapping led him to cross paths with someone that could transport him back into harm's way. Someone who, also conveniently, was to be found on the _Dutchman_ having an equivalent of tea and biscuits.

"Pure fluke that you decided to return to Jones again after he'd set his beastie upon me..."

The almost-smile twisted into a sly smirk.

"Unlikely."

His rag-clothed hand strayed to the hilt of his cutlass.

"How fares his reward for you so far?"

Time warped and twisted again as Jack finished speaking, stretching from seconds to what could have been hours in Jade's mind when in fact she had only blinked. Her sharp gaze wasn't slow to note the Captain's hand as it strayed to his blade, and this time the young woman felt compelled enough to take a step away from the pirate and his harsh words. They stung, but not enough to elicit more emotional response than a slight flinch. Eventually, she replied.

"Oh, don't act like you never cut deals and tried to sell off someone else to make your own personal profit, Jack - given the same circumstances you'd have done the same," she hissed, her own hurt soothed by retaliation. The acid tones in Jade's voice dropped almost immediately back into mumbling as the words caught up with her brain, fingers sliding across the intricate designs on her pistol. "Either way, my 'reward' is flawed. Th' deal was for 'im to keep 'is distance from me and that involved gettin' killed in the first place; even if get out of here Beckett has a death warrant waiting back on land. Anyways, you broke your side of the contract first the second I got attacked - I promised I wouldn't take you to him if you protected me, an' you didn't."

Despite the truth she spoke about the accident she had no part of, there was little conviction backing the hollow response. She knew it would do little good to temper the belief of treachery, and thus she took another step backwards.

"I hadn't seen that madman in Port Royal before he found you and I didn't intentionally lead you to Jones either. In fact, he didn't want to send me - I mean he already has you goin' crazy here, pardon the bluntness, so he 'ad no real need. 'Twas my idea to bring you back so's I can hold up my 'alf of the bargain. I ain't stupid enough to think that the devil will be holdin' up his 'alf of the pact if he can find a loop'ole, so I don't see any harm in cheatin' him a little by getting the both of us out of his contracts by that same way...with some cooperation from you, 'course..." The answer finished rather lamely for the fact that the sun on Jade's back was starting to burn and the dark shadow cast by Jack's hat was still too disconcerting to face. Glancing to the sandy earth again, another forever began to play with the woman's mind before she turned away.

"I'll be...elsewhere... If you feel like talkin' without ripping my guts out, Cap'n." With that, she began to stalk off; to where, she had no idea.

Jack lifted his head and watched her walk away.

"She has a point..." muttered a voice behind him.

"Of course she has a point," he replied.

As he spun on his heel, his sword whipped from its sheath and plunged viciously into the stomach of the pirate that dared to comment. Shadow Jack cradled the dread-locked, choking form of Considerate Jack.

"And incidentally, so do you," he hissed.

Considerate Jack slipped limply to the ground, his features frozen in horror. His eyes rolled back and he faded into the whiteness. His slayer stared at the empty space for a moment and then looked across at the small crowd that had gathered at the base of his ship. No sooner did he notice them, all of the Jacks immediately tried to look busy. Some chiselled at the barnacles, some scrubbed with buckets of soapy water, a few even tried to climb up the hull without aid of rope. One fainted.

Shadow Jack scowled. He rammed his cutlass, which glimmered between being sullied with blood and sparkling clean, into the ground and stalked off after Jade. He didn't take note of how long it took to catch up with her. The _Pearl_ and her crew stretched away like a kaleidoscope as he moved.

"Where do you plan on runnin' to, I wonder?"

Too horrified by the Locker's depressingly skilled ability to play games with her mind, Jade failed to notice that she was being followed until Jack spoke, and even then it took a moment to process as her eyesight lilted horribly when it tried to focus on the heat waves that radiated on the horizon. Slowly she turned around, a bemused frown on her face.

""I...don't actually know." she grumbled, flustered by the question as she flicked a strand of hair from her face, "Why, does it matter t' you?"

"Not a jot... love," he said, with a sudden quietness. The current captain of the _Black Pearl_ tilted his head to one side, sweeping his line of sight across the figure of the woman before him. With most of his troubles behind him - after all, he was dead - Shadow Jack's thoughts began to tread new ground.

"Oh no, Jackie, you're not considerin' -," began a small voice from his shoulder. "You wouldn't -."

Shadow Jack brushed at the voice idly. There was a faint scream as the speaker tumbled the long way to the ground and, without batting an eyelid, the Shadow personality crushed Substitute-Conscience Jack under his boot. Slowly, the Jack in control moved towards her.

"It strikes me as common sense that, should we want anyone to find us, splitting up would be somewhat...unwise. So, I suggest..." Quick as the picture of thunder, he scooped Jade up by the waist and relieved her of her pistol. The pistol-wielding arm slid under her knees for him to lift her and his free hand clamped tightly across her startled mouth. "...that we move ourselves back to familiar ground," he said gruffly, ignoring her struggles.

He strode back through the kaleidoscoping white desert until the _Pearl_ loomed close once again. All along his travels were various other Jacks that kept their distance, but waved their arms and shook their heads, bewailing the unknown whereabouts of Jack's true conscience. Shadow Jack passed the place where his sword lay embedded in the assumed-sand and circled the beached hull. He stopped when he reached the great hole in the _Pearl_'s side, Redbloom's sailcloth bandage now almost torn clean off since the damage of the great monster. Jack's boot slammed into the cloth remnants, clearing a path into the ship.

Keeping a viciously strong grip on the pirate-attired girl, Sparrow ascended through the decks until he came to the surface and purposefully entered his cabin. Here he deposited Jade on his desk, which was conveniently clear after all the sliding around in the mortal realm. With pistol aimed at her, he slunk with a casual air to his desk drawer and took out a bunch of keys. Concealing which one he used, Shadow Jack locked the door and pocketed the bunch inside his coat.

"Now that I have your undivided attention..." he resumed, the irony of his own attention being beyond divided, "I've come to realize that you and I know very little of one another, despite being thrown together on more than one occasion. Since this _slight predicament_ we're in has arisen, per'aps this could change."

He dismantled the flintlock as he spoke, tipping the powder onto the floor and catching the shot in his nimble fingers. All the while, frantic Jack faces peered in through the only other exit - a window that was probably fatally too high from the white ground below.

"I propose we play a little...game. I'll ask you a number of questions with the intention of finding out more about your humble self. For every answer I consider not to be revealing enough of your inner self..." He placed the empty gun upon a cabinet, and moved as quick as...well, a sparrow...alongside her. He briefly gripped one of her boots. "I'll reveal something of the outer."

At last he allowed a smirk to join his sinister expression, and let the shot slip from his fingers, where it rolled away along with ... _how he loved to imagine_...her hope...


	51. Scaly Survivor

**Chapter LI: Scaly Survivor**

Surreal watched Tam whilst she studied the maps that lay out on the desk. "As you might have guessed, my young one, we shall be abandoning our little adventure for the time being." She paused slightly before continuing, "I have a question that I would like answering.... what do you know of the pieces of eight?" Surreal admitted to herself that Tam might wonder if Surreal knew nothing of the pirate lords, however this was not the case. Being close to Sao Feng got her entwined in the politics of it a long time ago. Her actual reason for the question was in fact Tam's reaction to what Will had asked.

"Enough to show those bastards at the Court a thing or two about respect for spirits and gods." The irritable hiss was accompanied by a severe lashing of the tail as Tam stalked the cabin perimeter, flexing her hands a little as she spoke and the demon side of her filtered through. "I was a youngster, back before...this." She motioned to her altered self almost disgustedly. "And attended a court meeting, albeit a much smaller, less vital one, so I know how they work. I was one'f the only ones to rebel against their representing Lord. I got kicked out for having...reservations about them trying to do what's fabled to 'ave been done to Calypso. Ironic that I should end up like this, really."

A long pause extended the silence, and a sardonic smile cracked her normally stoic features. "Oh, and as for calling me 'my young one', I beat you by a good thousand years or so. Don't assume possession of me."

****************************************************************

Grath was a dead lizard. Though he wasn't really a lizard, he looked enough like one that even HE referred to himself as one. Stroking the spiky ridge on his head he stared out onto the sea. How he hated the ocean. Give him good solid rock any day, but not this endless water. He was dead because his small boat was sinking ever so slowly.

As he stared out he made out a large shape on the horizon. Another ship!

Scurrying about he turned his small ship around and headed for the other craft. It didn't matter if they took him prisoner at this point, so long as he was alive. He eagerly waited for the two seacraft to meet. As the larger ship came close, Grath Dragonfang hurled a grappling hook and latched it onto the railing. Hurrying up the rope, he launched himself over and stood erect on the deck. Something was wrong though. Something in the air. He could feel...a presence. A spirit's presence.

Glaring at the startled Chinese crew he growled out a few words, "Where iz your Captain?"

Not waiting for an answer he began to search the ship for the source of the strong spiritual energy. He flicked out his long forked tongue eagerly. When he found where it was coming from he intended to find out why a TIGER spirit of all things was out in the middle of the ocean. His movements and searching made loud thumping noises alerting all to a foreign person aboard.

"Where iz it COMING FROM!?!"

*****************************************************************

Before Surreal could even bother to think of a witty retort to Tam, she heard some scratching noise from out on deck.

"What the hell..." She didn't bother to finish her sentence as she renewed her grip on Kaetien, unsheathed her sword and raced out of the cabin door. She indicated to the men that carried Will. "Lock him in my cabin." She then spoke to the crew as a whole: "Spread out and search!"

She headed towards the general direction of the noise....

Will struggled in the crewmen's grasp. "Surreal!" he yelled after her and snapped at those dragging him away. "Let me go, damn you..." He wrenched away from them briefly, but they only snatched him up again more roughly. "Surreal! I can help you!"

William Turner had just about had enough of having so little control over his life.

Tam had swivelled her head towards the closed door seconds before the scratching sounds were heard, a frown creasing her lips as she sensed something...familiar. The possessed woman didn't appear to make a move, though, as both eyes simply tracked Surreal as she stormed out of the cabin.

"Moody."

Stretching unhurriedly in the room she was left in, it was but a moment's work to fold the charts in half to obscure the multiple rings of the puzzle before she, too, followed suit and left to investigate. Sliding out of the cabin with all the collected grace of a tiger, Tam was about to start after her assassin companion when she noted Will being dragged past by a group of burly sailors-she sympathized with his fury but didn't show it in more than an arch of the brows; certainly Surreal hadn't ordered such a pointless task? She shot a glare to the captors in passing, lip curling a little to reveal serrated teeth as she spoke.

"Let him go, he might be correct." Not waiting to see a response, she was away again quickly on the trail of her 'mentor', locating her swiftly and with sword drawn. Keeping well enough behind her to leave her to it, she only gave one piece of advice, head tilted to listen to the thumping. "They're on the lower deck companionway."

Grath stopped moving. There it was, so close now. He moved silently behind a barrel. He paused, waited for a few seconds. Yes it was no longer moving. He would have to be careful. This was a mature Tiger spirit he was dealing with. He had fought with spirits before and he hadn't enjoyed the encounter. Crouched behind the barrel he leapt out from behind it suddenly. He moved to slay it all in one go but stopped.

**IT WAS TAM!**

He couldn't do it. He couldn't kill her. He had seen her die once. He couldn't go through it again. He dropped his wicked looking pick-hammer and went to his knees. He licked his green lips with his over-long forked tongue, "Tam, mine old friend what happened to you? I know you have a Tiger zpirit within you but how? That temple'z zpirit waz zlumbering peazefully when I left." His dark green eyes with their strange rectangular pupils stared at his friend. His eyes roamed around all the differences in her body. The eyes, the tail, the swiftly forming claws. So much had changed in her. He hoped she was still in there.

She had known the person to be behind this barrel even as she crept with Surreal in search of the newcomer; most stowaways tended to select such a spot such as that, and whether or not he was hostile made little difference to her- death no longer harbored any threat for Tam. It did both surprise and perturb the spirit-possessed woman when the man leapt out and revealed himself to be nothing short of reptile in appearance, however. Curious and confused, she took a step backwards from Grath and narrowed the amber eyes challengingly, head at an angle as she scrutinized his body. Though something tugged at the memory of the real Tam, it was as fuzzy as ever with the swiftly dissolving line between her and the spirit-she didn't recall him as more than a broken image in the caverns of her mind.

"I wasn't sleeping, merely _existing_. Most of us don't get recognized unless we actively make to meddle with mortal affairs, it seems. I was curious about this world. Now...who are you?"

So, she didn't remember him. It wasn't a big problem. After all she had been dead. However, the Tiger spirit talking directly to him was a bad sign. It meant that the merging had begun sooner than normal. Grath sighed and retrieved his pick-hammer and stood. He looked down at his old friend and grinned. At least she was still in there then, it could have been worse.

"I zee you don't remember me. I'm your old friend Grath Dragonfang. I waz the one who had to leave you at the Tiger zpirit'z temple. And it zeemz that Tiger haz an attitude problem. Relax little kitty, Tam and I go way back, back to the dayz when she waz a zilverzmith. We had a shop together for a while, that iz before it waz burnt to the gound. Remember me now?" The reptilian man's grin grew broader. He turned and looked at the assassin near him. "Sheathe your blade, nobody'z wanting to fight today." He looked back to his possessed friend and flicked his tongue in and out several times. That was an old joke between them. She had always teased him about his 'silly looking tongue'. So he had naturally stuck it out at her all the time. She never could help but laugh when he used to do that. The green-skinned man hoped she would remember _that_ at least.

Fortunately, the manhandling sailors had listened to Tam and released Will, who staggered off to the commotion on the lower deck soon after she had. "What's going o-?" he began, but stopped to goggle at the dripping lizard man that had come aboard. Noticing that Surreal was also present, he chose (perhaps wisely) to remain quiet for the moment and listened to the conversation that ensued.

The kitty comment stung Tam; her body seemed to gain height as if hackles had risen and she snarled, serrated fangs glittering as she unabashedly hissed in front of them all.

_I know him!_

_- Of course you do, and now I do also, sharing the memories and so forth._

_Aye...wait, you were a living being before becoming a spirit?_

_- The price of love. Now then, this idiot..._

_What's the problem now, can't you just greet him?_

_- He called me a 'kitty'. I...don't like it. Too many memories._

_The bathhouse? I suppose you were in control most of the times they tried to beat me for your trouble._

_- Yes, until they discovered the steam vents. They called us a kitten when we had that sickness from it._

_I didn't want to remember that._

_- Exactly. I'll let you handle this. I'm not good with humans, they don't seem to want to do anything but harm me. I shall rest until I am needed again._

_Thanks, it's been a while since I saw him._

She seemed to suffer from what appeared to be another headache, only this time when her amber eyes opened, they appeared softened, docile almost, the slit-like pupils dilated. A small smile managed to twitch her lips this time.

"Put that thing away, y' hulkin' idiot. 'S good t' see you again..."

Grath grinned so broadly it split his face nearly in half. Rushing up to Tam he wrapped his green tinted arms around in a huge hug that lifted her off the ground.

"Ah Tam! It'z been zo long!"

Letting go of her he began a thorough inspection of her changes. He looked straight into her different-coloured eyes, felt her curved sharp nails. Then, against his better judgment, he reached behind her and stroked her tail.

"Hahahahahar, yer juzt like me now! And zorry for the 'kitty' comment earlier, itz juzt zo ztrange zeeing another perzon affected by zpiritz like I am. I mean the tongue I waz born with but the rezt well, you get the idea. Anyway how have ya been? Ever zinze I ztarted hearing rumorz of a demon cat girl i've been following ya. I've got zo many queztionz to azk ya. including azking for a proper introduction to yer friendz."

Surreal stood back and watched the exchange with a neutral look of anger on her face. She wasn't about to interrupt a reunion but nevertheless having a stowaway aboard her ship was never a good thing for her temper. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted Will trying not to draw her attention. Without even thinking she slid across to him.

"What do you make of this, my dear William?" she muttered under her breath, so she didn't distract Tam and the newcomer.

Will tensed as Surreal arrived at his side. "What..." He stopped short. He had only just noticed that Tam had a tail...a twitching...real...tail! "What _are_ they?"

Surreal smirked at his expression. "I would have thought Davy Jones's crew would look worse..." she whispered. It didn't take much brains for her to work out how he knew of the pieces of eight and how he got to her ship.

Will turned quickly to Surreal. "_You've_ met Davy Jones? How is it he's become so well known all of a sudden? From what I've only recently been told, he only comes for those dying at sea, or those with something to bargain."

Surreal tried to look shocked. "So you're not just a brain-dead, useless whelp then." she commented whilst raising an eyebrow. "How I know the dear fellow is none of your concern..." In truth she didn't know the fellow and never wished to meet him under the normal circumstances if at all possible. Instead of finishing her sentence, she switched her attention to Tam. "Who might this be?" she inquired.

"Let me...breathe...you idiot!" Tam gagged breathlessly as she was crushed in a tight hug, her feet leaving the ground by a few inches with the force. Her tones of voice seemed light enough with the appearance of such an old friend, but her expression remained fairly awkward, if not irritated, throughout as he gave her a glance over-having been caged for so long had left her pretty unresponsive to physical affection of any kind, and the scrutiny of others about the changes often made her feel uncomfortable. When Grath actually reached out and touched her tail, she couldn't help but cringe a little, whipping it out of his grasp with a powerful lashing as she replied to him, not really noticing the fact that his arms were still around her as she spoke.

"There have been rumours? I've been in Singapore these last three years - then again, yer tracking skills never were up t' much." She turned back around to Will and Surreal now with a raise of the eyebrows to the blacksmith, her keen hearing having picked up his exclamation. "Oh, we're human, but...well, I'll allow my friend here to explain. Grath, this is Surreal SaDiablo, who aided my escape, and William Turner- he arrived aboard not long before you. Surreal, Will, this is Grath, an old friend of mine from a time when I was more...normal." Knowing Surreal would understand, Tam lapsed into silence. After a second, though, she frowned. "Did you jus' mention Davy Jones?"

Putting aside his shock at being spoken to by a woman with at least one cat-like appendage, Will nodded. "He was _kind_ enough to drop me off here. He told me that I'd find one of the Nine here." Turner decided to take the honest approach and lowered his voice...

"I'm looking for a map to Davy Jones' Locker."


	52. Shadow Jack's Game

**Chapter LII: Shadow Jack's Game**

Awkward fear tempered with disgust radiated from Jade's bright eyes as the Captain delivered his ultimatum to her, the expression on his face anything but comforting to the stunned woman. After a pause, she squirmed a little, ignoring the flush that burned her face as she tried to organize the whirling mass of thoughts inside her head.

_And to think I hoped he'd still be sane in here..._

She swallowed nervously, still trying to catch up with how swiftly the pirate had disarmed and dragged her back to the ship as the words came tumbling out, a definite acid to her voice that was only weakened by the distinct quiver that accompanied it.

"Fine...We'll play your little game. Just know, though, that I'll be tryin' my best t' answer you, an' with every answer you think's insufficient, I'll lose just as much respect for you as a good man." _If I ever had any. _"So...go ahead."

The abyssal eyes of her captor glittered chillingly. For a moment the animal kingdom was put out of balance as sparrows were upgraded to birds of prey. Jack's fingers drummed provocatively on Jade's boot before he backed off, locking with her eyes in predatory fashion.

"Then I daresay it's a grand thing I'm not a good man. To be without your flattery, miss, would drive a blackened heart into ruin. Now then," he said, leaning leisurely against his cabin wall, "simple things first..." He appeared to conduct a very slow, yet dramatic, orchestra with his hands as he spoke, ignoring the fact that out of the corner of his vision there was another version of himself clucking chicken-like past the window, currently too deep in his subconscious to surface in his active body. "The first and second of my questions being the following: One; what is your most loved place in all the world... and two; what is your," - his gold caps sparkled wolfishly -, "_fondest_ memory?"

Jack watched her intently, giddy on her fear.

"You may of course reply in your own time...but too long will be considered as an unsatisfactory answer, and regretfully counts as a _forfeit_."

As the Captain's animalistic nature began to surface, Jade couldn't resist a near-silent whimper, unable to tear her eyes away from the predatory gaze of the pirate, as the Sparrow became a hawk. Again she shifted awkwardly on the table, the sounds of steel scraping on wood as the dagger thrust into the back of her belt shifted. It was a mockery, really; she knew that they were already dead, so technically the threat of an injury or death was nullified, making possession of it feel all the more pathetic. Finally tearing her gaze to the floor, the woman took a deep, shuddering sigh and massaged her temples with quivering fingers. The strain of keeping as straight a face as she could showed.

"Christ I hate you, Jack. I can't very well think under...oh, well I s'pose my most loved place was home, really. Can't give you an exact place, I don't remember the country, but 'tis well East of India. 'S a large-ish seaside town, mostly beautiful white 'ouses and these fantastic cherry blossom trees that're great for climbing if you're small - not that I was ever s'posed to - the sun rises over th' sea so you get a beautiful golden sky at dawn an' the ships're all but unsinkable, small as they are, an' stay in a limestone harbour. 'S a wonderful place if you can stand the people." Surprised by how much detail she had willingly given on her homeland, Jade blinked as another silence penetrated the muggy air in the cabin before she felt the familiar heat on her cheeks increase. Rubbing the back of her neck gingerly, she frowned. "I don't have any _fond_ memories."

With a surprisingly patient air, Jack listened as Jade described the beauty of what she remembered of her home. He kept the cruel smile upon his lips, her blushing not going unnoticed. "The account of your favoured place is indeed impressive. Ten points for your poetic judicature." He moved forward onto the full soles of his boots once more. "However..." His boots took a few tentative steps towards her. "...with regard to your memories, would it not be economical to consider that your special place were in fact also part of a fond memory...even if said memory were only the very sight of this aforementioned beauty? In conclusion..." Jack had reached the desk. "Your dishonesty is noted..." He leaned across her, close enough to see each of her eyelashes in individuality. Then, with a savage quickness, his hand grasped about the purple contour of her left boot and plucked it from her, the ferocity of the tug hurling it across the cabin where it found a lonesome rest.

The way in which Jack twisted her words to suit himself once more unsettled and disgusted Jade as she arched her back a little with his approach to get as much distance as she could from him, averting her gaze from his vindictive stare and gagging at his breath. She said nothing for several moments, then tensed a little and managed a weak growl.

"If you intend t' play this all day, I don't 'ave the mind for it- I ain't lettin' you enjoy makin' me suffer. The boots go as a pair."

Angry with herself for only making things worse, yet also justified in getting the game finished as soon as she could, the woman kicked off her other boot and edged back on the desk, tucking her feet beneath her legs. After a swift, challenging silence which dared him to deny she sit cross-legged, she met his gaze.

"Alright, next forfeit, next question," she mumbled, the fight gone from her voice and resigned to a wary mumble. The 'game' went on.

Shadow Jack resisted a combination of pouting and eyebrow-raising at Jade's small grasp of control, instead keeping his horribly calm composure. Again he stepped back, but only as far as the opposite reaches of the desk, his hand sliding across the grainy surface as he did so.

"As you command, Ms Starfall."

He tilted his head slightly upwards, savouring the points of interrogation he hoped to unleash. Thus he continued:

"How is it that an exquisite creature such as yourself came to turn pirate?"

Ah; a more straightforward question with a more definite answer this time, and the brief flicker of relief showed in her eyes for a second before she obliged with a response.

"When I left you at the bayou to go get some plants an' the like, I got confronted by a stranger who attacked me with somethin' that made me go blind. He interrogated me about this'n that, supposedly he knew me an' bore a grudge, I don't know. Nex' thing I remember was wakin' up in Port Royal with the last few days just...gone, like a hole in my mind or somethin'. Anyways, Beckett was lookin' for you an' I was buggered for remembering what actually happened. He gave me an ultimatum, which I couldn't deliver, an' he branded me. I only remembered you when I came round again, when you helped me." _Lord knows if you should have. _Hoping that the Captain wasn't intent on exacting repayment for the rescue any time soon, she shrugged lamely and waited for his response.

As like the eye of a storm, Jack relaxed his 'about-to-pounce' stance and perched himself on the edge of the desk, averting his stare into more of a sidelong gaze. "It is a sad thing to be sure when a man, or woman as it were, must be placed into a category by order of a limp-wristed toff with delusions of grandeur who then seeks to mark us like cattle..." He cast back his coat and rolled back the shirt-sleeve on his right arm, revealing the blue tattoo of a swooping sparrow, along with the scarred 'P' welded into the skin. "But _this_ does not make me a pirate, dear Jade. This does not govern when I chose to become one any more than it tells me that someone else decided a pirate was what I was."

He covered his arm again and turned his full attention upon her.

"Pirate runs through your veins, girl. It screams from within you; through the way you talk, the way you carry yourself...even the way you breathe. I'll wager you knew you was one well before Beckett clamped eyes on you. You an' me, missy. Peas in a pod."

The darkness resumed in his features.

"Five points in light of your ignorance, but my turn you also shall have."

He lunged forwards, but merely grabbed her wrist. Awfully delicately, he slid a ring from her finger and, still following her eyes with his own, he fluttered his hand until her trinket disappeared.

Still unnerved by the pirate but not quite as uneasy as she had been, Jade relaxed her posture a touch; she felt that the worst of the trouble was, for now, at least quelled to a more manageable level than the predatory actions of the Captain several minutes ago. She jerked back involuntarily from Jack's touch nonetheless, but offered no resistance as he stole back the piece of jewellery she had only managed to retrieve earlier. It was no great loss considering what was at stake, so she paid it no heed, focusing rather on the dark, raven-like eyes staring back at her. She might have found the deep, rich colour of those eyes to be fascinating, perhaps even _attractive_ had it not been for the soaring, unassailable madness that glittered on the surface.

Not really caring if she was adhering to the rules or not (nor what the penalty might be), Jade twisted the hand that was still in Jack's slight grasp and held onto _his_ wrist. Keeping her eyes locked with the Captain's, she raised both eyebrows archly; the fright of her situation was temporarily suspended for a single moment of clarity.

"Why are you doing this to me?"

As though a fraction of an ice cube had dropped down his neck, Jack shuddered at the grip of Jade's hand. He continued to stare at her…but the stare was unreal, like being faced with the black void of a shell when the crab inside had recessed from sight. Then –

"Aye…why _are_ you doing this to her, Jackie?" said a quiet, but familiar voice in his head.

Jack took a moment to scrunch his eyes up in the hope it would crush the spokesperson. "Shut it," he growled under his breath. "I'm askin' the questions."

"An' clearly you're doing a fine job of it," the voice that was his own sneered. "Makes you feel twice the man, does it? Thinking we can use her to gain some semblance of the power we struggled to hold in our mortal coil…"

A sour expression painted Jack's face as his shell rose to life again.

"This is a poor attempt to dissuade me towards decency. What is a brigand if he can't act as one would expect such a scoundrel to? I need no excuses…

"…take what you can…"

In one smooth instant, he quelled the voice in his mind and snapped his attention once more to Jade. His hand increased the pressure upon her wrist until even his own fingers ached.

"If to Hell I am unjustly sent, what harm is there in earning me right to be 'ere?"

Jack leapt up from the desk, dragging Jade up to her feet by her arms. Holding her upright, a bestial grimace played upon his face.

"Tell me, dearie, what is it you want most in all of the worlds?"

The manner in which Jack began mumbling to himself as if having conflicting emotions about what to do next ruffled Jade more than she had anticipated. The way in which he conversed with himself so calmly, as if the voices were natural and kept within his mind, forced her grip on him to lessen a little; after all, if something in his disjointed brain was going to defend her...

All hope of such a reprieve from the interrogations ceased when the pirate's grip tightened enough to elicit a pained hiss - which broke off jaggedly into a sharp inhalation when he dragged her from the desk. She began to doubt if this man ever _could_ be saved, let alone herself.

"I...never really thought of it..." she gasped, writhing against his grip as panic began to fuel her emotions again, frightened mind racing to think of an adequate answer that was actually the truth. As it stood, she was too catatonic with fear to think correctly, her brain circling useless answers like a broken record under the pressure.

And so she just blinked helplessly to Jack after a pause, silently pleading for time and space from this madman before she might just lose her own mind, not to mention her dignity...

Oh wait, that was diminishing quickly already.

A dark chuckle escaped him as Jack drank in her silence. Enraptured with the yearning to drain her sanity, he steadied her and let her stand unaided - but with one hand still clutching her wrist. His free hand unclipped the black box that dangled at his belt and forced the item into her palm. Whether or not Jack's mind was too addled to recall that the compass did not work here - or whether it was merely a part of his plan - was unclear. He let go of her, stepped back, and watched her as a cat watches the mouse-hole.

"I'll ask once more, and think harder..."

The little box in Jade's hand instantly silenced anything she might have retorted to the Captain as her eyes shot directly to the needle set in it's intricate housing as it stirred lethargically into life. This was what she had come here for in the first place; this was what had caused all the trouble, gotten her marked, gotten her here. She had half a mind to throw the stupid thing out of the window and in fact her grasp tightened on it for a second before she mastered herself, horribly conscious of Jack's eyes on her as the compass spun. She was confused by this odd object - what did it actually _do_?

Several moments ticked by in which the needle seemed only to continue its haphazard manner of spinning about it's axis; quivering now and again for a beat, just enough to cause Jade to think it stopped before spinning in the opposite direction. Frowning, she tilted the face of the compass back to Jack, hoping to get his eyes to leave her for just that second so she could breathe properly.

"It...won't stop...."

And still the smile would not fade. Jack prowled in a slow circular motion, but at sufficient distance for it to be a shock when he stole up directly behind her. His hands roamed again...this time dancing upon Jade's shoulders before one shot out and batted the compass out of her clutches. He grabbed the dark green lapels of her coat and spun her about, peeling it from her like a rind, making an art form out of his ability to combine severity with a macabre poise. Casting the coat aside, he grabbed her exultantly about the waist and drew her horrifyingly close, fingers like claws.

"Final question..." Jack purred sadistically. "What, above all, is your greatest fear?"

Now beginning to feel a little unwell as the situation progressed, Jade closed her eyes and shivered a little as Jack's touch felt like spikes in her sides; his casual approach to making her squirm only made her feel worse, and she didn't even try to look at him again, much less consider the nuance of voice his words carried as she rushed a blind response.

"Indefinite imprisonment," she blurted stupidly, trying once more to disengage from his grasp, "th' lack of freedom, thought that you might never get out; that feeling of uselessness, being someone's prisoner, their plaything...tha's why you....scare me...actually...there, izzat what you wanted to hear?"

The eyes of her jailer blazed wildly with an inane and passionate delight at her response. "Got it in one, missy. For that, you can 'ave twelve points...and..." his voice dropped to a deadly whisper, "claim your spoils..." His claws clutched suddenly at her throat, sullied thumbs resting like daggers at the base of her neck, and he lifted her face to his. Jack dipped his head, moving in for a k-

"I don't think you want to be doing that, mate."

He stopped.

Shadow Jack lessened his grip and turned to the voice that had sounded behind him. He saw himself standing at the other end of his cabin, glaring with an air of challenge.

"Oh, I ain't denyin' that she's enchanting," this 'new' Jack continued, walking cautiously towards him. "After all, what man can resist the charm of a woman in such ornate vesture? But this is one poker game I won't allow you to continue cheating. Hand 'er over, and we'll say no more about it, eh?"

Breathless with the horror of anticipation, every muscle in Jade's body turned into unresponsive steel as Jack grabbed her again. She only managed to tilt her head back due to the feeling of being choked, all the while forcing herself to raise mental barriers and try to shut out the goings on, her mind being the only safe haven left.

_This isn't happening....this isn't happening...._

In fact, nothing did happen. She shivered a little at hearing him speak again, this time as if he were addressing himself. Slowly, curiously, one eye cracked open to see the Captain glowering at (and having a conversation with) the cabin wall: no-one else was there however. Her second eye joined the first in opening again and she listened properly now, realizing that Jack was taking both sides of the argument, the same as earlier. Well, perhaps some decency _did_ exist in him after all, but it was simply a matter of whether or not it would win out to sheer animal instinct at this point. It was an argument she had no part of, and so she tilted her head back down as best she could with a shuddering breath, remaining silent.

She would have prised Jack's hands from herself just then, but it suddenly felt as if he was the only reason she was able to stay standing; the ebb of adrenaline now she was out of immediate danger left her feeling physically exhausted, and without some reason to stay still she would have been sorely tempted to simply collapse.

A dull _whump_ resounded as, indeed, Jade let her tired muscles completely relax when Jack was torn away from her by some invisible force. Ignoring the fire shooting through her back at the contact against her scars from Daemon, she closed her eyes again and quivered once before remaining still, listening to the argument above her.

Things seemed to be heating up between Jack and himself-up to the point where, perhaps, she should intervene, but she didn't move, only spoke.

"You have a point" she murmured, feeling more secure with the deck beneath her and her eyes shut to block out the sight of Jack ranting, "Listen to yourself; you're letting Jones win-he wanted to break you and he has, was that what you envisioned for your great ending, to go out a lunatic?" She stopped then, making her tone a little more reasonable as she conversed with what she assumed was the more sane half of the Captain. "Is there anythin' I can do to help him?"

Both Jacks spared her a glance, which resulted in her seeing a combination of concern and ferocity. "Best you can do is get back and out of our...my...way, 'less control slips in ill favour again," he replied with the normal-toned voice.

Shadow Jack turned to his counterpart and aimed the drawn pistol at him. "Mine's the only favour we'll be seein' around here."

Jack Sparrow laughed. "Good one, mate. Shoot me wiv the pistol I knows you ain't loaded since the last time we used it."

His face fell suddenly as a new personality literally melted through the cabin wall to stand between them. The 'defending' Jack grimaced, for this arrival's face was distorted with the beak of an octopus - the two beard braids normally worn at the chin were instead squirming blue-grey tentacles, the edges of his tricorne curled into horns.

Despite having never lived in the northernmost part of Britain, this Jack gurgled: "Dae ye fear death, Sparra?"

Jack frowned. "Whose side are you on?"

"Yours," bubbled Davy Jones Jack.

"That's not helpful."

There was a loud 'click' as Shadow Jack attempted to fire the pistol, but upon discovering his counterpart to be correct, he cursed and sheathed it again. A few moments passed where the dark personality glared maddeningly at the defender....

...and then light glimmered in his terrible eyes.

Jack's blood ran cold as he watched his shadow self calculate. He traced the other Jack's gaze to himself and the path behind him, realization dawning. Somehow the vision of Jack's position had swapped...the corporeal one now being the one standing nearest the window.

"Bugger..."

Numb with impending doom, Jack looked towards the young woman in his cabin.

"Sorry, love. This is going to hurt me a lot more than it does you..."

There came a snarl from across the room.

"Let's see how far this Sparrow can fly!"

Shadow Jack charged headlong into Jade's defender, careering the both of them to the back of the ship. The glass window exploded, the nosey personalities having only just escaped, and the two combatants plunged to the marble sand below.

Flat on a broken back, eyelids fluttered open to look feebly up at the window of his cabin...so very high above. A half sigh escaped him.

And Jack Sparrow died, again...


End file.
